


Twelve Times

by ThatOneKitteh



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxious Keith (Voltron), Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Black Paladin Keith (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Falling In Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Keith (Voltron), Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Insecure Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lance's Sword, Langst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, POV Keith (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Keith/Lance (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-02 09:06:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15793383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneKitteh/pseuds/ThatOneKitteh
Summary: Lance is coming to terms with the kind of sudden, but pretty obvious realization that his crush on Keith is not as little, and not as tiny as he had thought. No, the brunet really, really likes the other boy. And that it might just be a problem. Lance's worst fear is being rejected by the other boy if he finds out.Meanwhile, Keith has known about his crush on Lance for some time, and wishes more than anything to get closer to the shorter boy. But, when given the opportunity to do just that, the ravenette decides that it would be for the best to keep his affections for the other boy a secret. It would not end well for their blooming friendship if Lance found out, and Keith would give anything to just continue being the taller boy's friend.Will they eventually figure out each other's feelings? Or will some unforeseen circumstance keep them from ever realizing it?Only time will tell.





	1. Act 1, Part 1 - Fight Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set in an alternate Season 3 universe, where Lance has already unlocked his sword bayard and Shiro stepped down to be an advisor after coming back from the Galra a second time.
> 
>    
>  **UPDATE: This was suppose to be a one-shot, but turned into a fic. Oops. ******

It all begins because of some _stupid_ argument that Keith didn't even mean to start.

Lance had been in the middle of telling a story to the group- some ‘great adventure’ of his, where Lance was, _predictably_ , the great hero.

Keith sits off to the side of group- silent and leaned back into the sofa behind him. He's comfortable enough, but can't quite sit still- blood humming with anxious nerves and ready to spring up at a moment’s notice should the need arise. Keith really hates lounging around like this- he'd rather be training right now. He feels the need to be doing something- _anything_ \- at all times. To be productive somehow. To keep his body moving. To keep the stress away.

So, Keith decides to watch the taller boy from the corner of his eye, picking at a string on his glove in both feigned disinterest and as a way to calm his nerves. He hardly hears any of the words coming out of the brunet’s mouth, despite being very attentive. Instead of listening to Lance's story, Keith studies the other boy's movements and mannerisms.

Lance throws his hands around in larger than life gestures as he speaks. His face contorts into overtheatric expressions as if the plot of his own story both thrills and surprises him, urging the same reaction from his audience. His voice swoops in and out of his normal high pitch, lowering only to spring back up to further his point at crucial moments.

Keith watches the boy’s mouth move, forming shapes in rapid succession and then splitting into a toothy grin as he pauses for dramatic effect. Keith notices how white his teeth are.

He drags his gaze up the rest of the darker boy’s face- from his cute button nose, to his swath of freckles that litter both cheeks, and finally, to his eyes.

Keith really likes Lance's eyes.

His deep blue eyes swirling with emotion. Emotions that Keith very rarely can put an actual name to, because- as open a book as Lance may seem to everyone else on the ship- the taller boy seems to be written in a language that Keith has _no hope_ of ever understanding. Not that he doesn’t want to. He just doesn’t know if he’ll ever have the chance.

His blue eyes that crinkle at the edges when he genuinely smiles. Blue eyes that light up when he’s in center stage with all the attention. Blue eyes as vast as the galaxy they currently float in. Blue eyes that Keith really wouldn't mind getting lost in sometimes.

And then those same blue eyes land on his own, and a thin eyebrow quirks up on the other boy’s face in question.

It's at this point Keith realizes he's been blatantly staring at the other boy. So Keith does whatever any other impulsive, anxious, pining boy caught in the act would do- he panics and loudly blurts out the first thing he can think of.

_“Oh yeah?”_

And then suddenly five other sets of eyes are on him too. It’s silent for a moment as his words seem to register in everyone’s ears.

Keith immediately feels his pulse jump, and not in a good way, as the same blue eyes he had just been admiring seem to narrow in his direction. Lance’s lips twist into a scowl- which really does not suit his face in Keith's opinion- and the shorter boy realizes with a certain level of panic that he has no clue what sentence he just interrupted.

With his luck, and the expression being throw in his direction, it must not have been an appropriate one.

After a tense moment, Lance scoffs out, “Oh what, _Mullet_?" The word is spit out like a curse. "You saying you could’ve handled the situation better than I did?”

Keith has no clue what possesses him to bite back other than his nerves and anxious, rising pulse. Perhaps a confrontation was better than whatever rabbit hole he had been falling down not moments ago. At least that would be familiar. At least that didn't _frighten_ him.

“Maybe I could!” Keith snaps.

 _“Oh yeah?”_ Lance mocks the earlier phrase in what Keith assumes is suppose to be an imitation of his own voice. “Then how about you prove it!”

Now that makes Keith falter. “I- I, uh.” Prove _what_ exactly? What had Lance been talking about so animatedly before? With quite a bit of embarrassment, Keith realizes he doesn’t actually know. He finds his face heating up, and his nerves rising more and more the longer he feels everyone stare at him.

But before Keith can back down, Lance is out of his seat, stomping over and hovering above the shorter boy where Keith still sits on the couch. Keith straightens his back and crosses his arms defensively, tipping his chin up to match the challenge. The two boys stare each other down for what seems like a lifetime to Keith. He feels anxiety rising in his throat the longer he locks eyes with Lance.

“Fight me.” Is what Lance finally says. “Right now. Just our bayards. Winner proves they’re right.”

Keith is two seconds away from saying, ‘no way’, when Lance’s dark expression cracks into easy smirk and he speaks up again. “Unless… the great _Keith Kogane_ is too scared?” Lance tips his chin up, looking down the bridge of his nose at Keith, eyes taunting.

And fuck if that doesn’t get Keith’s blood pumping, then nothing else will.

Adrenaline already coursing through him at the promise of a good fight- and _definitely not_ just because it's Lance- Keith shoots up from his seat, almost knocking his head straight into the brunet’s in the process.

Still the taller boy barely budges. He simply sneers down at the ravenette. "Well?"

Keith glares back, fists clenched and fingernails biting into he leather of his gloves. If a fight is what the brunet wants, then it's a fight he'll get.

“You’re on, _McClain_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be 12 Acts- _hence the name _\- with 1-4 parts an Act. Putting it together, that's somewhere around 30 chapters, so expect that for how long this fic will be.__


	2. Act 1, Part 2 - So How'd I Do?

Not even ten minutes later the two boys stand off at either end of the training room, jackets thrown off to the side haphazardly.

Allura and Coran had declined Lance's invitation to watch the match, saying that there were duties of the castle to attend to. Shiro had patted Keith on the shoulder with a defeated sigh and mumbled a half-hearted good luck, but had left to do his own thing as well. Pidge had yanked up their laptop and left as soon as the yelling had started. Keith doesn't even know if they know the fight is happening. And Hunk had given one good attempt to persuade both boys out of fighting, before giving up when neither of them seemed to even hear him speak.

So that left just Keith and Lance.

_Alone._

Keith activates his bayard, and with an increase in his pulse, wonders briefly if this was a good idea after all. But he really has no time to wonder as Lance’s bayard- Keith’s old bayard- flashes into a familiar gun and snaps up into a battle stance. Keith instinctively moves into his own stance at the motion, and then the fight starts without warning, much to Keith’s surprise.

Three shots wizz right past Keith’s ear as he narrowly rolls out of their path, and before he even has the chance to spring back up, another two are headed his way.

 _Damn._ When did Lance get so fucking fast?

Keith ducks and weaves out of the way of a dozen more shots, creeping closer to the taller boy the best he can.

Lance definitely isn’t making the task easy for him.

He fully expects the brunet to start stepping back as Keith advances, or _at the very least_ move from the one spot he has planted himself at. Keith expects him to keep his distance, and prolong a cat and mouse game until Keith eventually tires himself out. But instead, the taller boy plants his feet firm, one eye closed in concentration and a finger steadily pulling the trigger back over and over.

To say Keith is confused is an understatement. Lance’s whole advantage in a fight like this was to keep a distance- to keep his opponent from ever getting close enough to land a hit. Still, if Lance wants to throw the fight trying to prove something, then that's his choice.

Finally seeing his opportunity, Keith hurls himself forward into Lance’s space, far too close for the brunet’s bayard to lock onto him. _Finally_ the other boy takes a step back, bringing his gun up to block a downward slash. Keith smirks at the resounding clang of the two weapons meeting.

Checkmate.

Keith expects to find a look of panic when his eyes lock onto the brunet’s face, but instead he finds a look of smug victory plastered there. Confused, Keith doesn’t even see the roundhouse kick until it’s right next to his stomach, and by that point it’s far too late to block it. Keith doesn't even have time to brace himself before he goes skidding across the floor in shock.

Since when did Lance learn close range combat? Since when did he _need_ to know it?

But apparently that wasn’t the only surprise the brunet had for him today.

Keith flips himself up to his feet as his journey across the floor ends. He looks back to Lance just in time to see a huge toothy grin and the flash of a bayard. Keith tenses, ready to dodge more bullets, but instead is surprised to find himself looking at the downward slash of a blade coming his way.

Keith hastily raises his own blade up to block and hears the metallic clash of sword on sword as it hits. The ravenette's grip wavers slightly at the surprising force behind the attack. Still dazed, Keith’s eyes trail from the soft brown hands holding the sword’s hilt, up to the smug face of Lance not a foot away.

Lance has.. a sword?

Before he can even process this new development, Lance is pulling back and swinging the blade in a large arch towards the ravenette again. Keith ducks, narrowly avoiding a sharp edge to the skull, and twists around to hit Lance with all his strength. Surprisingly, Lance blocks the move easily and dances backwards at the next.

“Surprised?” Pure smugness radiates off of Lance and drips from his voice like honey as he taunts Keith, all the while blocking another slash with ease.

Keith grunts, frustrated, swinging again and again, trying to find a weak spot in the other boy’s defenses.

For the time being, _he finds none_.

Lance dodges and blocks with a practiced ease that Keith has never seen the boy posses before. And like hell Lance should ever be able to go toe to toe with the ravenette in his own element. Not without some serious training that Keith has no idea how the brunet got.

“Oh come ooon,” said brunet whines, “at least say something to me!”

Another swing. Another block. A counter attack. A dodge.

“Fight now. Talk later.” Keith bites out, feeling himself start to break out into a sweat.

Seriously, when did Lance have the time to get this good? Had it always been this hard to beat him? Definitely not.

Keith thrusts his blade towards Lance’s stomach, but the taller boy dodges to the side, spinning back around into a slash that Keith barely had time to block.

And then it happens.

Lance ducks down and spins on the ball of his foot, knocking Keith’s legs right out from under him. As soon as Keith’s back hits the floor, Lance is hovering over him, the tip of the red broadsword held to Keith’s throat. Keith's finger twitch as he hears his own bayard deactivate where it had been knocked from his hands and lays a couple inches too far away to reach.

Keith goes limp, realizing he's been beaten.

Lance stands over him, feet shoulder width apart on either side of Keith’s hips. His chest is heaving from exertion and his heavy breaths can be heard even over Keith’s own heartbeat thudding in his chest. His fluffy brown hair is now slick with sweat and clinging to his forehead, much like how his shirt is clinging to his damp skin. As his breathing calms, Lance breaks out into the biggest, brightest smile Keith has ever seen.

Keith feels his heart stutter and his breath leaves him. Looking at the boy above him, Keith has the sudden, absurd urge to tell him just how _hot_ he looks like that.

But, _of course_ , he _doesn’t._

Instead he takes the hand being offered to him as soon as the other boy's bayard is deactivated and away from his throat. He feels the warmth of Lance’s hand seep right through his sweaty palm and into his bones as he's yanked up from the floor.

“So, how’d I do?” Another lopsided grin from Lance.

Keith nearly chokes on his words and feels heat flood his cheeks at the sight, combined with the _very_ suddencloseness to the taller boy's face. Blue eyes bore into his own in anticipation.

“G-good.” Keith croaks out, wincing at the sound of his own voice.

A deep breath.

“You did really, _really_ good.”


	3. Act 2, Part 1 - Overthinking

It's about an hour later when Lance finally comes down from the high of their sword fight- which the brunet had very much won, thank you (he still can't get over it). At that point, he starts to think. And the more he thinks, the more he starts to worry that maybe him winning the match hadn’t been a thing destined by fate. Maybe him winning had just been a fluke- a mistake the universe had made in its grand and busy scheme of things.

After all, Lance had gone for the strategic- abet cheap- shot of using Keith’s surprise to get the best of him. What if Keith had already known about his sword? Would Lance have still beaten the ravenette? Probably not.

The match was close enough as it was. Lance had just barely gotten the win over Keith. A few more minutes, and Lance’s stamina would have run out. Then he would have been an easy target, and it would have been an easy victory on Keith’s part.

This is what Lance decides as he lays sprawled out on his back in the floor of his room, staring up at the crisp white ceiling, damp hair sticking to his neck and face, and a towel still thrown around his neck. He feels his own mouth become stuck in a sour frown, and his eyebrows furrow in frustration.

Even by beating Keith at his own game, Lance doesn’t feel like he’s actually done anything.

So this moment is also when Lance decides that he has so much more to learn. And with reluctance, he realizes the only one that could even teach him is Keith.

Sure, Lance could train on his own with the sparing bots- that’s what got him so far in the first place! But.. Lance has to admit, the bots don’t hold any flame to what he learned just by having a match with Keith. The ravenette may have not noticed it, but Lance had been observing the shorter boy’s stance and technique closely, adapting his own to match as the fight progressed.

Lance lifts a hand to his face, latching onto the strands of drying hair falling into his eyes and twirls them between his finger, faintly noting that it’s about time he gets a haircut. He fixes the offending strands with a look of contempt.

Keith, in all intents and purposes, is a better swordsman than Lance. Lance knows this-  _has known this_. So why is the thought suddenly bubbling up a well of sour emotions that Lance thought he had gotten rid of once the two of then had started to get along?

Could it be that Lance… had hoped to impress Keith?

Ridiculous.

Keith is just a jerk is all.

Lance toys with the hair is his fingers still, staring at the strands in contemplative silence. Finally Lance sighs, closing his eyes and dropping the hair from his hand. His hand smacks into the floor as it drops, and Lance lets out a loud, frustrated groan.

Ok, so maybe it wasn’t that far-fetched.

Lance blinks open his eyes to stare up at the blank ceiling hovering above.

Honestly, why couldn’t his brain give him this one thing?

Lance picks himself up, trudging over to his bed, and flopping down there instead. It’s getting late, so he should probably head to bed. As Lance curls into himself under the sheets, he thinks of the obvious solution to all this- just ask Keith to help him train.

Everyone knows Keith is always training. The ravenette practically lives in the training room. Lance thinks, with a chuckle, that Keith has probably named each of the bots by now as familiar he is with them. Would Keith do that?

Lance hopes so.

So yeah, all he has to do is ask Keith to help him train. Simple as that.

The only problem is, Lance will have to  _ask_ him.

Lance presses his face into the pillows with another frustrated groan.

-_-_-_-

The very next day, Lance manages to not even glance at Keith as they go about their daily duties. The brunet busies himself with tidying up the different rooms of the castle, because honestly? This place is a mess.

On the second day, Lance slips out of the room with a hurried excuse as Keith tries to start a conversation. Lance doesn’t miss the brief look of hurt that passes over the shorter boy’s face, before it sours into something stoic and blank once more. In fact, Lance sits awake at night thinking about that brief exchange, guilt gnawing away at his gut. It’s not his fault he’s so busy these days.

By the third day, Lance is still in firm denial that he is avoiding anything at this point. Absolutely nothing. He tells Hunk and Pidge as much when they confront him about his strange behavior.

Pidge and Hunk share a brief look that Lance really doesn’t like, and turn to face him again.

Lance presses his cheek into the counter he sits at, previously sharing a bowl of Hunk’s newest creation with Pidge. Imitation salt and vinegar chips, Hunk had claimed. Lance concedes the similarities, but they just aren’t up to par with the real thing, no offense to his best bud.

Lance can already hear the lecture coming as Hunk opens his mouth. “Look, buddy, all we’re saying is you’re being a little dramatic here.”

Lance’s face snaps up, fixing Hunk with a warning glare, not wanting to hear this right now. Hunk smiles sheepishly, and hold up his hands in a peace offering. He continues regardless, “Just maybe talk to him, Lance? Worst he can do is say no.”

“Yeah, maybe just stop being a baby,” Pidge quips suddenly, eyes not leaving their computer screen.

Lance splutters indignantly, “I am  _not_.” But internally he concedes that, yeah, maybe he is being a bit dramatic. Regardless, he continues on, voicing the insecurities that he has been building up the past few days. “Guys, what if he’s a jerk about it?” Lance crosses his arms with a huff, muttering, “He’ll definitely be a jerk about it.”

At this his two friends exchange another look, and Lance feels his annoyance rising to a peak because he doesn’t know what that look  _means_.

Hunk wipes his hands on his apron and leans forward on the counter, resting from where he’s been cooking up concoctions all morning. “Lance, why would he be a jerk? You’re a great guy- he has no reason to be rude in return.” Hunk finishes with an exasperated sigh, “And I thought you two were finally getting along?”

Pidge snickers. “I think they were doing more than just  _getting along_.” The way they stress the words makes Lance’s stomach flip nervously, though he has no clue why.

Lance contemplates Hunk’s words. Him and Keith  _had_ been getting along better lately, though the bickering was still there, and sometimes one of them would go too far with it. Lance had had his fair share of nights where he ended up sulking because Keith had hit a sore spot- one of the brunet’s insecurities. Lance already knew that stuff about himself. Knew what people thought about him. He didn’t need to be reminded, because that shit  _hurt_.

Following the train of thought, Lance decides that Keith would probably make fun of him for such a pathetic request. Or just outright reject him without a word- probably by slamming the door in his face. Did that sound like something Keith would do? Lance isn’t sure.

But that uncertainty is exactly what’s making Lance so hesitant about the whole ordeal. How well does he really know Keith?

With these thoughts in mind, all of the fight drains out of Lance at once. With a sigh, Lance drops his head to the counter again. The cold material rushes up to meet his forehead with a smack. It stings, but Lance says nothing about it.

“Fine, fine. You both win.” Lance grimaces, resigning to his fate. “I’ll talk to him tomorrow.”

At the skepticism he meets on Hunk and Pidge’s faces, Lance rights himself and sighs. He turns to Hunk specifically. “Come on, buddy.” Lance gestures to the stove. “Let’s try the next batch.”

-_-_-_-

And that’s how, on the fourth day, Lance finds himself shuffling on his feet awkwardly outside of Keith’s door, hand raised halfway to knock. He hovers it there for a moment, hesitates, then drops it pitifully. His shoulders slump and his head hangs low between them in defeat.

He can’t do it.

Lance doesn’t understand why the thought of Keith rejecting him makes his stomach twist so uncomfortably. In fact, he doesn’t understand a lot of things about the other boy.

Keith is like this untouchable, burning curiosity of a mystery to Lance- something Lance wants to reach for, but is too scared to touch in case that heat burns the very skin from his fingertips.

Lance wants to get to know Keith better, he really does. He wants to stride up to the other boy and just start chatting away, having a proper conversation, and begin to understand the secrets that the ravenette holds. But he can’t help but feel he’s too far behind the other boy to ever be anything other than his shadow- let alone be an equal or even a  _friend_.

Lance signs, resigning himself to his walk of shame back to his own room- or perhaps Hunk’s room, where he can hopefully recover on some readily available sympathy. Has Lance ever mentioned his best friend is amazing? Even after warning Lance this would happen, he’ll still accept him kindly when Lance returns, looking like a lost and kicked puppy.

Except Lance doesn’t return to Hunk to sulk, because at that very second Keith’s door slides open. Keith stands there, eyes down as he adjust the collar of his jacket. When he looks up and violet eyes meet Lance’s own, the shorter boy jumps in surprise.

The open look of shock is quickly replaced with a cooler, darker look of indifference, that even Lance can feel the hurt behind. Lance barely keeps himself from flinching.

“Oh! H-hey there buddy! How are you?” Lance begins to ramble, looking everywhere but Keith’s face, and bringing his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck nervously. “Y’know I haven’t seen you for a while and all, so I don’t really know how you are. In fact, I actually don-” 

“Lance.” The cold snap of Keith’s voice causes Lance to clamp his mouth shut. Lance’s eyes snap to a very unamused set of violet eyes. Lance finds himself lost in them for a brief second, before his brain catches up to the fact his name has been called.

“Oh, uh. Yes?”

Keith frowns. “Lance, you’re standing outside my door in the early hours of the morning, rambling.” Keith regards him with a wary gaze, crossing his arms over his chest in what Lance knows is a subconscious, self-protective gesture. Keith sounds tired when he asks, “What do you want?”

Lance gulps. Now or never, right? He opens his mouth to respond, but snaps it shut just as quick. Shit. How had he rehearsed this again? How exactly was he going to ask this without making a fool of himself?

Not that, y’know, he hasn't already.

Before Lance can open his mouth again to speak, Keith’s cold, unwavering gaze meets his eyes. Lance’s breath hitches, and he wonders if Keith’s expressions had always been this icy.

“Right.” Keith says curtly. “I’ll be going then.” And with that he brushes passed the taller boy, out the door and right down the hall, opposite of where Lance had arrived from.

Lance stands there, shocked, and watches the ravenette’s back retreat around a corner. Realizing what just happened, Lance shifts on his feet, tugging at the sleeves of his jacket and worrying his bottom lip as hurt blooms in his chest.

Well shit.

So much for not getting rejected.


	4. Act 2, Part 2 - Atonement

Lance steps into his best friend’s room that night, and rants about Keith being a jerk after all, to a very disappointed, but very compassionate Hunk.

When asked for more details, Lance launches into an explanation of what happened. Hunk listens attentively, and then explains to the brunet that perhaps it wasn’t only Keith’s fault that things turned out badly. Yes, Keith had been cold, and yes Keith had cut him off and abruptly left before Lance could speak. But, Hunk reminds his friend, it had been Lance who has been ignoring Keith. Lance who had shown up to the other boy’s room unexpectedly in the early morning, after not having said a word to him in days. Keith was bound to be wary.

With Hunk’s help, Lance realizes that maybe he was also at fault here, and maybe he even hurt the ravenette without even meaning to with all his avoiding of the topic. As he lays in his own bed that night, staring up at the crisp white ceiling for the several hundredth night in a row, Lance resolves to make it up to him.

-_-_-_-

In the early morning of day number five, Lance decides that he’s going to ask Keith to train him. Today. No matter what. No excuses, no backing down. And  _no chickening out_ , Lance reminds himself firmly.

It’s like Hunk keeps telling him- the worst that can happen is Keith saying no. Except, that isn’t the worst that could happen, Lance’s brain helpfully supplies. Not after how much of a jerk Lance has been to the other boy, intentionally or not.

Guilt eats away at Lance’s stomach.

He really had misjudged Keith again, hadn’t he? The other boy obviously didn’t think of him as a rival, now that Lance really contemplates it. And Lance didn’t particularly think that anymore either. But, when intimidated by the thought of Keith’s rejection, Lance had defaulted back to that same mindset from the garrison, the brunet realizes sourly. It was probably his fault that this had all gone badly.

Lance shakes the thought right out of his head. He’s going to fix this. That’s what matters. He’ll even apologize.

The brunet grabs his jacket from the hook beside the door, and throws it on, marching out of his room like a soldier with a purpose.

Within seconds, he finds himself in the same position as yesterday’s disaster- because of course Keith had chosen the room right next to his. The brunet shuffles outside of Keith’s door for a moment, hand hovering over the cool metal- except this time, he actually knocks.

It’s a few moments before Lance hears shuffling from the other side of the door, and then the metal is sliding open to show an very irritated, very disgruntled Keith. “Shiro, I already told you I-” And then Keith’s violet eyes widen as he seems to suddenly realize it’s not his brother at his door.

Both boys freeze in shock.

Lance swears the room suddenly gets twenty degrees hotter, and as such, the flush over his cheeks is completely justified.

Keith stand in front of Lance, hair damp and mussed, face flushed from a probably scolding shower, towel thrown around his throat, and  _naked from the waist up_. Lance faintly realizes that Keith had not, in fact, been joking about his intense workout regimen he’d adopted since coming to space.

Lance isn’t quite sure why his brain short-circuits right then and there, face continuing to burn a bright red. He’s obviously seen Keith without a shirt before- very brief glances when changing out of their uniforms after battle- but not this close up. And definitely not with the rest of him in such a disheveled state. It makes Lance’s stomach flip funnily.

“Uh,” He squeaks out intelligently.

Keith is no better, the pale skin of his cheeks flushed even darker than before, and arms crossed protectively over his chest. The ravenette eyes the door, obviously embarrassed and seemingly contemplating just closing it in Lance’s face.

But, no. Lance said he would do this now,  _no excuses_. An flushed, shirtless Keith doesn’t change that.

So before Keith can move, Lance leans forward and slams a hand over the gap in the door-frame where the door normally slides out, effectively holding the door open until he removes his hand. Unfortunately, this also has the effect of putting Lance that much closer to Keith’s face, the taller boy realizes with jolt down his spine.

Keith looks up at him, violet eyes wide in shock. His mouth is parted in a surprised ‘o’, and his face is still heavily flushed, if not more so now than before. His raven hair is wet at the ends, curling up adorably at the sides of Keith’s neck and on his cheeks, and sticking to his forehead like glue. Lance gets a whiff of something akin to spice cologne.

Wait, adorable?

Lance’s brain screams at him, bad idea, bad idea,  _bad idea_ , and Lance jerks back, hand leaving the door as if suddenly burnt.

“Uh, that is- um.” Lance takes a deep breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and blurts out a bit too loudly, “I’m really sorry I’ve been avoiding you!”

When Lance reopens his eyes, Keith looks at him, a bit dazed. With a twang of mortification, Lance realizes maybe he had yelled louder than he thought. That was the only possible cause for an expression like that, right?

But before the brunet can berate himself, Keith face morphs into a look of surprise, and then skepticism. Lance’s breath catches, expecting the worst. And then, there’s a soft, but wary, “Yeah?”

Lance breathes a sigh of relief, body deflating. This wasn’t a disaster yet.

So Lance does what he does best when he’s nervous- he puts on a dazzling smile, which may actually come out a bit more sheepish than he intends, and begins to explain, “So our match right?” Keith nods, encouraging him to continue, drying hair bouncing just the slightest bit. “Well even though I beat you,” Lance boasts- because he just can't help himself- before his tone drops as he becomes sheepish once more. “I realized some things.” 

Keith shoots him a look that says that he’s not quite following, because honestly, even Lance knows he isn’t explaining himself very well. But honestly is the best policy, right?

“Ah, well, that is- I realized that I actually have a lot more to learn about swordsmanship.” Lance shrugs, looking at the floor and admits, “And that it was probably luck that let me win.”

At this Keith speaks up, voice firm, “Lance.”

The taller boy looks up at his name, surprised to find a sour frown on Keith’s face. “It wasn’t luck.” Keith continues, conviction clear in his voice, as if daring Lance to disagree. His violet eyes meet the taller boy's intensely, emotions just out of Lance's reach swirling in their depths. “I told you, didn’t I? ‘You did really good.’ And I meant it.”

Warmth fill Lance’s chest, and he ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. I remember.”

Lance looks up as he hears a soft, “Is that all, Lance?” Keith is still looking at him expectantly, and Lance realizes he still hasn’t even apologized properly.

Lance coughs into a hand, looking to the side, and feeling awkward once more. “Actually, I seriously do need to apologize. I shouldn’t have avoided you, and I didn’t mean to be a jerk. I was just nervous to talk to you because-” Lance hesitates for only a second, “-Because I came here to ask something, which I never did.”

And then Lance looks back up to a soft eyed Keith, and his breath catches funnily in his throat. It's like a light-switch has been flipped and a completely different person is standing in front of him.

Lance doesn’t think he’s even seen Keith with an expression like that before. His eyes flicker over the shorter boy’s face, memorizing the small details like the color of his eyes and the small curve of his lips because… Well, Lance doesn’t exactly know why. He just doesn’t know if he’ll ever see this particular face again. And then Keith’s face does yet another amazing thing- it splits open into a toothy grin, and Lance feels all his sins forgiven.

“Nervous, huh? This must be a big deal then.” Keith teases lightly, and Lance has never been more grateful for the easy atmosphere that has fallen over the two of them. It calms the brunet’s nerves.

“Yeah.. So uh,” Lance takes a deep breath, preparing himself, “Would you help me train with my sword?”

At the look of surprise he receives from the shorter boy, Lance panics, and immediately backpedals, starting to ramble, “I mean! You don’t  _have_  to?” It sounds more like a question than a statement in Lance’s ears. “It’s just a question. A possibility. A suggestion. I completely understand if-”

“Sure.”

And with the simple, straightforward answer, Lance’s mouth freezes.

What? Lance had honestly not been expecting the easy answer after all of this mess. He had been expecting a struggle or  _a rejection_.

Lance stares down at the boy in front of him in disbelief, and a bit of awe. Keith blinks up at him, unperturbed.

Just like that? All that preparation and worrying, for such an easily obtained agreement? Lance feels like laughing. Hunk was right (as usual)- Lance had been being over-dramatic about the whole ordeal.

Looking down at Keith’s open expression, Lance realizes that the shorter boy may even consider him a friend. He hadn’t been thinking of that this whole time at all. Of course Keith would agree, or at least not outright reject him. They were  _friends_.

The realization fills Lance’s chest with warmth.

But now, Keith is starting to look uncomfortable at Lance’s silence, shifting nervously on his feet and picking at the towel around his throat, and with a drop of his stomach, Lance fears he’ll take his acceptance back. So Lance panic and blurts out the first thing that comes to mind-

“Cool!”

Lance flinches at the volume of his own voice, but Keith smiles, seemingly unaffected.

“Cool.” The shorter boy parrots, and then Lance is grinning.

“Cool,” The brunet affirms, finality in the statement.

The silence that follows is much more relaxed than the one from a minute ago. Lance rocks back on his heels, happy, and Keith continues to smile.

After that, the taller boy easily slides away from his self-conscious self, and into a more typical Lance-like persona. “So,” He drawls, arm draping over one of the shorter boy’s bare shoulders in a mock hug of sorts. Keith squeaks out in surprise, and Lance grins down at him. ”I knew you would never reject me.” He lies, placing his other hand on his forehead and swooning dramatically into Keith’s side. “I  _am_  irresistible after all.”

The action is benevolent, so Lance is shocked when Keith cooling face flares up red again, and the shorter boy shoves him off roughly.  

“Shut up!” Keith huffs out, annoyance clear in his voice, and glares. “Get out of my doorway.”

Lance steps back on instinct, startled by the sudden change in demeanor.

Keith moves to slam his hand down on the control panel, only to pause midway, face contemplative. Finally, he says, gentler this time, “Meet me in the training room in an hour. We’ll start then.” And with that, the door is sliding closed in Lance’s face.

Lance blinks, stunned into silence. That had been.. odd.

But Lance had apologized. And he had gotten a yes! Keith would be helping him train.

Everything is going well, he decides. Lance turns, grinning to himself, and all but skips down the hall to go find Hunk and tell him about his success.

Once found and caught up-to-date, Hunk pats Lance on the back and tells him that he’s proud.

-_-_-_-

Lance is astounded to learn that, when training one-on-one, Keith is completely a completely different person than when they train with the group. The brunet wonder briefly if his teammate- his  _friend_ \- has been switched out with some counterfeit, low-accuracy double. Because only that would explain the fond looks and chuckles he’s receiving in return for his witty jokes as they begin.

Instead of barking orders and harshly criticizing mistakes as he normally does as the leader- which causes him to often butt heads with Lance, his right-hand man, and on occasion even the rest of the team- Keith now corrects Lance’s stance with gentle hands and soft words near his ear. He taps a foot on the inside of Lance’s ankle and presses down on the brunet’s shoulder firmly, telling him to widen and lower his stance.

If the other boy notices the redness on Lance’s face, he doesn’t mention it.

Keith ends up not only teaching Lance about swordsmanship, but also hand-to-hand combat. Lance’s confidence quickly evaporates as the brunet gets his ass handed to him within seconds of beginning- not once, not twice, but nearly the entire session. Much to Lance’s dismay, Keith does not give the taller boy a chance to sweep his feet out from under him again, as bad-ass as it had been during their now long ago sword fight.

But that doesn’t matter, because Lance is improving, and learning more and more about Keith everyday. Lance is  _happy._

And an even better thing- Keith looks happy too.


	5. Act 3, Part 1 - Stressed

Lance lays sprawled out on his back from where he had flopped down, panting and sweaty, only moments before, having just finished a particularly grueling training session with Keith. The ravenette in question had followed a few moments later, calmly sliding down the wall after him, a foot or so behind Lance’s head. Within seconds a water pouch had been hovering over Lance’s face, there had been a amused ‘here’ from Keith, and the brunet was accepting the chilled liquid eagerly. Lance had wasted no time gulping it down as soon as the cool material had hit the skin of his palm. Keith had snorted in faint amusement at the dramatic sigh Lance had left out after he finished and had gone silent after that.

Five minutes later, Lance’s pouch now sits abandoned somewhere to the brunet’s right, crumpled and empty, and Lance’s breathing has calmed into something more relaxed. Lance can still hear Keith behind him, sipping slowly- emphasis on _slowly_ , Lance thinks, already fidgeting in place with renewed energy- on his drink.

Speaking of Keith.

Lance cranes his neck and tips his chin up, bangs falling towards the floor and exposing his forehead. He takes in the upside-down image of Keith next to him.

Keith sits, lower back pressed into the wall behind him, upper body curled over the knee at his chest and his other leg stretched out in front of him. Lance watches as the ravenette finishes his pouch and sits it to the side almost mechanically, already lost deep in thought.

Lance takes in the rest of the other boy’s appearance while he can.

Keith’s boots and pants are the same as usual- Lance swears the shorter boy doesn’t even own another pair of either- but the ravenette’s dark tank top is much, much looser than his normal black t-shirt. And while Lance can appreciate the definition the tighter shirt gives, the neckline on this tank top is low and wide enough to show the other boy’s collarbones and a bit of his bare chest. Lance eyes the pale skin there briefly, before trailing his eyes up the shorter boy’s throat and eventually to Keith’s face.

The ravenette looks more relaxed than he normally does, but there’s still a tension in his muscles, and its obvious on the shorter boy’s face. With the water pouch finally abandoned, his lips are now pursed in a sulky pout, that is- now that Lance has admitted to himself he may have a teeny, tiny, small crush on the other boy- very cute. Keith’s dark hair is thrown haphazardly into a low ponytail, and his bangs are slick against his forehead with sweat. The shorter’s boy’s flushed pale skin is a great contrast to the inky black locks. It’s a good look, Lance decides. He doesn’t even hate the mullet anymore, now that it’s tied up like that.

Lance brings his gaze to the ravenette’s dark eyes. They continue to look forward, ignoring Lance in his entirety, glaring at something the brunet does not see with a stormy expression. Lance knows this face well- he’s seen it many times since he’s started staying after training with Keith. It means that whatever Keith is lost in thought thinking about is not particularly pleasant.

As Lance continues to watch the other boy, he reflects.

Lance has learned a lot about Keith in their weeks of shared time training. Just little tidbits of information here and there, spoken only at Lance’s insistence at first, and then given freely by Keith after more time had passed.

There are some facts that probably don’t matter in the long run, and others that are far more personal than Lance had ever expected to hear spoken from the other boy’s mouth.

Lance often wonders if the other boy had even meant to reveal them or not. Thinking back to the combination of the determined set of Keith’s jaw as he spoke, and the ravenette’s perplexed expression at his own words, Lance thinks its a bit of both.

Either way, tidbits include: Keith’s favorite animal is a hippopotamus (When asked why, Keith merely shrugged and said it was a long story, much to Lance’s frustration). His favorite color is, ironically, blue (Lance still hasn’t let the shorter boy live it down). The ravenette has eaten a lot of fast food in his time, because ‘it’s easier than cooking something’ (Lance had called it lazy, to which Keith had argued, calling it ‘efficient’). And, on that note, Keith is a bad cook. A terrible, horrible cook. Once, he nearly burned down his shack in the desert by trying to cook mac & cheese.

Keith had been so flustered after revealing that particular bit of information- only made worse by the fact Lance could not stop laughing at the mental image of a panicked Keith frantically pouring water into a pile of dry, burning noodles. The following 24-hour long cold shoulder had been worth it to see the new expression of mortification Keith had worn after that. It had only ended when Lance had conceded to never tell anyone about the ravenette’s embarrassing secret. Lance had left out the part where he would still tease him about it, of course.

Lance smiles to himself, still watching as Keith starts picking at the long hair of his bangs, tugging at the strands lightly, and watching them with a look of contemplation.

Lance wonders if Keith would trust the taller boy enough for him to give the ravenette a haircut. Lance faintly realizes the shorter boy’s hair has only been getting longer and longer since they first arrived to space.

Which reminds Lance of another bit of information.

Shiro had been the one to always cut Keith’s hair as a kid. And he had always been the one to do it on the ship too, before he disappeared for the second time. Now though, the two brothers weren't as close, and Shiro was acting strangely- which is only succeeding at pushing the ravenette further away. Lance doubts the older man still cuts Keith’s hair.

Lance wonders if that’s what Keith is thinking.

The brunet frowns at the thought, now remembering the sadder, and more personal bits of Keith’s life he had learned.

Keith had grown up in several foster homes after his father had died. How had he died? Lance isn’t sure. But after spending a heartbreaking amount of time in the system, Shiro, and his fiance Adam, had taken Keith in, enrolling him into the Garrison. Over the years, Shiro had become an amalgamation of a brother, a father figure, and a mentor to Keith. The older man looked after Keith then, just as he now looks over the rest of the team now.

At that point, all was well again in Keith’s life. That is, until Shiro had left to go to Kerberos. At that point, Adam and Keith- who had never been particularly close in the first place- had parted ways, and Keith had been left once again without a family.

Lance’s chest aches for the ravenette. He can't even imagine that kind of loneliness, coming from such a large family himself. The taller boy tries to imagine what it would be like to have lost a brother, or sister, or his mom early on, but he can’t. They had all been around for as long as he can remember.

Sure, Lance had left his family behind to go to the Garrison, but even then he had been able to call in to home, or visit over holidays.

It was different now, in space. There was no calling home. No visiting. And no guarantee he’ll ever see them again.

With that thought, Lance thinks he understands the loss a bit better, if only a little.

Seeing Keith is this sadder, softer light, Lance now notices the way the other boy’s eyebrows furrow, pained by whatever he’s thinking. How he drapes himself tiredly over his own knee, as if too exhausted to keep upright. How he stares unseeing at his fist as it clenches and unclenches tightly, nails digging into the leather covering his palms as he mulls over whatever is bothering him.

The last things Lance had learned about Keith are as follows: One- after training, Keith gets into a pensive mindset where he goes silent and just thinks and thinks, mostly unresponsive to the rest of the world unless startled out of it. At first, Keith had made Lance leave immediately after training to do just that, but as time had passed, Keith had eventually allowed Lance to stay by his side as he thinks.

Maybe it’s comforting, Lance thinks, to have someone nearby as the ravenette contemplates his inner turmoils. And to have someone to pull him out of it after some time, as Lance has started doing.

And two- Lance thinks as he looks at the painful hunch of the other boy’s shoulders- is that Keith is undeniably, irrefutably, and indisputably _stressed as hell._

And most likely, the the other boy also has a serious case of anxiety.

It’s almost as if Lance can feel the stressful, anxious energy radiating off the other boy, and Lance wonders why he never noticed before, with the brunet’s own stressed, depressed, and well-dressed mindset. Maybe that’s exactly _why_ he never noticed. Lance had been too focused on covering up his own issues to see anyone else's.

But now that Lance has noticed, he can see the signs in painful clarity. The easily agitated, and volatile mood of his friend. The shorter boy’s restlessness and inability to sit still. His tendency to isolate from the rest of the team. The perpetual clench of the ravenette’s jaw, and his habit of grinding his teeth. The dark circles under the other boy’s eyes from lack of sleep and the resulting sluggishness. The torn and bitten-to-the-quick nails at the ends of his fingertips. The stiffness in the shorter boy’s posture whenever faced with a social situation, and his tendency to go missing when such situations arise.

Keith is so stressed, anxious, and wound-up, it’s like sitting next to a ticking time bomb. That much stress can’t be healthy, and can’t end well for Keith, himself, or the rest of the team.

And the ravenette’s current plan of training the stress out isn’t working, Lance decides.

Lance also decides, that as the other boy’s teammate, as his new training buddy, as the ravenette’s _friend_ , it is the brunet’s responsibility to de-stress the incomprehensibly stressed, anxious boy beside him.

Because, of course, Lance is just that nice and amazing.

And maybe, Lance is extremely worried about the other boy.

So, with that in mind, Lance gathers himself up off the floor, saunters over to the ravenette, and slides down the wall, plopping down at Keith’s right side. Warmth spreads through Lance’s own side as he presses it firmly into the shorter boy’s, grabbing his attention.

Keith turns in surprise, stormy violet eyes locking with Lance’s own, and before the shorter boy can blink, the brunet lifts a loose fist, tapping two knuckles against the other boy’s forehead lightly. Keith recoils, startled, and Lance chuckles at the other boy’s wide eyed reaction. Keith’s face morphs into a much more light hearted pout at Lance’s laugh, and he knocks his shoulder into the brunet’s just a bit too roughly, shoving him to the side.

“What do you want?” The ravenette asks, something in between real and mock annoyance in his voice.

Lance gives Keith an easy smile, and then turns forward, looking at the space Keith had been glaring at earlier. A white and aqua wall and a rack of staffs meet his eyes. Nothing threatening enough to warrant Keith’s earlier expression for sure.

“Just wondering what’s got you boring a hole into that wall over there.” Lance jokes, then turns to a very uncomfortable looking Keith, and suddenly pressing the issue doesn’t sound like a good idea anymore. Lance recalculates.

Placing a hand on Keith’s arm, Lance grins and questions, “Hey, buddy, what’s something you think is super fun?”

Keith frowns, eyeing the hand on his forearm. “Fun?” He echos the word as if it’s very premise confuses him.

Lance takes it in stride, leaning forward and broadening his grin until it’s blinding. Lance wonders if he’s imagining the pinkness blooming on Keith’s face from the sudden closeness of the two.

“Yeah! Fun, y’know, something you enjoy?”

Understanding seems to click on Keith’s face, his mouth dropping open into an ‘o’.

Lance waits in excited anticipation for the ravenette’s response, nearly bouncing out of his seated position on the floor. This was it, Lance was going to learn the secret of de-stressing the other boy.

“Well,” Keith starts slowly, then gestures in a wide sweep of the room with his free arm, “I enjoy training in here.” Lance is positive he hallucinates the much softer, mumbled ‘with you.’ that follows.

He flushes anyways.

“No, buddy, Keith-” Lance admonishes, discontent with the response, and Keith glares, “- _fun_.” He stresses. And then Lance is pulling back and listing things off on long fingers. “As in movies, or shopping, or going to the beach.” Lance pauses, briefly debating revealing his very personal pass-time, a fourth finger already up. “Or, uh watching the celestial body map on the bridge?” He finishes sheepishly, then shoves the four fingers in Keith’s face hastily to cover it up.

Keith’s face morphs from annoyed to surprised at the action, head reeling back at the sudden intrusion of space.

“See? There. Fourth whole things just like that.” Lance grins and retracts his fingers from a startled Keith’s face, proud of himself. Keith frowns, unamused. “Now your turn.” Lance gestures to the other boy, who suddenly looks quite nervous.

“Well,” A hesitant pause, “I don’t really have things like that?” Keith admits, but it sounds more like a question to Lance- a phrase looking for approval. Lance’s face drops, and Keith’s expression becomes even more distressed, so he continues, “I mean, we don’t really have time for stuff like that here on the ship.” Keith seems to consider his own words. “Or, at least, _I_ don’t.”

Lance opens his mouth to protest, only for Keith hold a palm up, eyes determined. “Look, I’m the leader, Lance. I have to be prepared for anything at all times.” Keith looks genuinely sad, and equally miffed, at his own words. Lance’s heart breaks for the other boy just that much more.

“I just don’t have time for fun.” Keith finishes with a certain finality, shoulder slumping in and locking eyes with Lance’s, face pleading for the brunet to understand.

Lance merely blinks, not knowing how to respond and mind racing to find an appropriate answer that would change the ravenette’s mind.

But then Keith is standing up abruptly, turning mechanically on his heels to face Lance, who still sits stunned in the floor. The ravenette worries his bottom lip and fiddles with the end of his shirt in what Lance has come to learn as a very anxious gesture, before stopping himself and standing up straighter.

“Look, we should probably get to breakfast. Hunk mentioned something about a new creation last night, right?” Keith gives a forced, tight-lipped smile, and Lance feels as though they have backtracked weeks in time. “I’ll meet you there, Lance.” And with that Keith is turning around and retreating out of the training room door.

Lance is left with a familiar, sour feeling settling in his gut at the situation as he sits alone on the cold floor of the castle. He slumps back into the wall, and his head hits with a dull thunk. Lance sucks in a deep breath and lets out a low, frustrated groan.

Lance is going to to make this boy relax if it’s the death of him, he decides.  
_And it will be_ , his brain supplies helpfully.


	6. Act 3, Part 2 - Reassurance

After a quick shower to get off the sweat and grime from training, Lance rushes to breakfast, already drooling at the thought of Hunk’s new creation. He wonders which food the concoction will mimic this time.

When he arrives, Lance is faced with a full table sans Keith.

Lance frowns, trudging over to his seat beside Hunk, and asks the larger boy to where the Keith is. Hunk tells Lance that the ravenette had come in, taken his food to go, and left in a rush- mumbling about having something to do. Disappointed, Lance stares down at his food, sour feeling eating away as his gut.

Keith had said he would meet him there. Had he lied?

Lance’s frown deepens, mind immediately jumping to the worst case scenarios.

Is Keith avoiding him? Had he upset the other boy, yet again? Had Lance pushed too hard to get a response? Lance worries his bottom lip. Had he made Keith so uncomfortable, he didn't want to even be near the brunet anymore?

Lance picks at his food, suddenly not hungry.

-_-_-_-

Later that day, after wallowing in his miserable thoughts alone in his room for hours, Lance seeks out Hunk and Pidge for comfort.

He finds them in the kitchen, sitting together at the counter. Pidge is hunched over the keyboard of their computer typing frantically and cursing under their breath. Several electrical devices and and a mess of various cords and wires fill the entire space that was once that end of the counter. One of the devices is hooked up and humming.

Hunk is looming over the shoulder of a the much smaller paladin, looking attentively at whatever they are typing. He points at something on the screen suddenly, and Pidge is nodding fervently, fingers clacking across the keyboard with a new purpose. They mumble to each other about something with too many words Lance doesn’t understand.

The smells of something cooking wafts through the air, and Lance’s stomach grumbles briefly, complaining about still being empty. Lance ignores it, wondering what the mystery food could be. Some kind of pastry, he guesses, based on the sweet smell.

Lance frowns in the direction of his friends. As usual- happily sat in their own little bubble- neither of them have noticed Lance walk in or the dejected expression on his face.

Well, that gives Lance time to prepare for his grand entrance, at least.

Lance sucks in a breath, steeling himself, and throws on a brilliant smile that in no way, shape, or form matches how he’s currently feeling inside. Hopefully, his best buddy won’t notice. Then he steps further into the room, throwing his arms up and striding in, booming out a dramatic, “I have arrived.”

Hunk looks up from the computer, surprised, and spots Lance across the room. He gives a small wave. “Hey Lance. Want a seat?” The bigger boy gestures to said seat beside him in offering.

Lance waves back, and starts across the room. He settles into place to Hunk’s right.

Pidge, blocked mostly from view by Hunk, predictably does not turn from their task at Lance’s loud words, the tell-tale clacking of keys the only indicator they are even still there. That is, until they call out a distracted, “Oh hey. What’s up, nerd?”

Lance smiles and reaches passed Hunk- who moves quickly out of the way, sending a warning glance in the brunet’s direction. Lance ignores it, ruffling Pidge’s hair anyway. They curse vehemently, and smack at Lance’s hand until he retreats, laughing.

Pidge turns to glare at Lance, already messy hair now sticking up in several new directions. “I told you not to do that anymore.” They hiss out, and Lance holds up two palms in surrender, holding back his giggles at the hilariously tousled hair of the smaller paladin.

Pidge’s eyes narrow, and they stare a moment later, before turning back to their laptop, not even bothering to fix their hair. Lance hears the younger paladin mumbled something akin to ‘you’re an asshole’.

Lance grins, mood already improving.

Hunk glances between the two warily, before leaning forward once more, shooting a Lance a look that says ‘did you really have to do that?’.

Lance shrugs, unapologetic.

Hunk shakes his head in disappointment, before angling in his seat to face Lance. Hunk face softens in concern, and he asks, “What’s wrong, buddy? You look a bit down.”

Lance sighs. Of course Hunk would notice- he always does.

Pretense falling, and shoulders slumping, he looks up at Hunk miserably. Immediately he blurts out what he’s been thinking over and over again the last few hours.

“I think I upset Keith again.” Lance admits, looking away and kicking a foot into the counter frustratedly. “I was just trying to figure out what kind of things he enjoys, but he said he didn’t have anything! But I kept pushing and then he just closed off, like before we started hanging out.” Lance says, still baffled by the exchange.

Lance shoulder hunch in even more and he mumbles, “And then he doesn’t wait for me at breakfast like he said he would.” Lance looks up once more, eyes wide in distress. “What if I said something really wrong, or pushed something I shouldn’t have?” Lance presses his forehead into the counter. “What if he hates me now.”

Lance eyes bore a hole into the hard material. “I just wanted to help.” He murmurs dejectedly.

A large hand rests itself on the brunet’s shoulder, but Lance refuses to look up. Hunk sighs. “Keith would never hate you, Lance,” he says gently.

Lance opens his mouth to protest, when suddenly Pidge coughs purposefully. The brunet turns his head in surprise, cheek pressing into the counter-top.

Pidge has abandoned their computer in favor of looking at where Lance has curl his upper half over the counter. They adjust their glasses and say, “Lance, if you think for a second that Keith would hate you, then you’re an idiot.” Lance makes to protest, but they hold up a hand, stopping him. _“Lance._ ” They stress in warning.

When Lance snaps his mouth closed, they continue. “That boy really likes you. Take it however you want, but he undoubtedly thinks of you as his friend. And you’re probably the closest person to him on the ship as per this moment.” Softer, they add, “You didn’t mess it up.” And immediately their voice becomes clipped again, bluntly adding, “You’re just being huge dumbass. And F-Y-I, Keith left breakfast because he had a call with Kolivan. Some kind of offer or whatever.”

"Wha-" Lance starts, surprised. "How would you know that?"

Pidge shrugs, and with that they turn back to their computer, keys clacking again.

Lance stares, bewildered by the entire exchange. He turns to Hunk, searching for a matching look on his best friend's face, but the bigger boy is unperturbed. Instead the larger boy states, “Pidge is right. Keith doesn't hate you.” The larger boy looks thoughtful for a moment. “Now that I think about it, he asked about you too when he came to grab his breakfast.”

“Asked about me?” Lance echos, not quite understanding.

Hunk nods, clarifying, “He ask if you had been there yet. He looked like he wanted to say more when I said no, but he rushed off so fast I don’t know what it was.”

Pidge pipes up once more. "He actually asks about you a lot, just so you know."

Lance’s mouth drops open and he stares at his friends, as if having a revelation. He feels his face heating up. “Oh.”

All of that did seem very Keith-like, now that Lance really thinks about it. The brunet giggles and his shoulder un-tense in relief.

Lance looks between his friends, smiling genuinely. “Thanks, buddy. And you too, gremlin."

Pidge immediately shoots him the middle finger.

Hunk pats him on the back. “No problem.” 

After that helpful exchange, Lance decides to stay long enough to try Hunk’s new pastries. He burns his mouth trying to eat one straight out of the oven before Hunk can notice. Hunk takes the pan away after that, forbidding anyone to touch them until properly cooled.

Once they are- and with Hunk’s permission, of course- Pidge and Lance have a competition to see who can eat more treats in 30 seconds.

Pidge easily wins by a landslide.

-_-_-_-

It had not been five minutes since Lance had started searching for Keith before the castle had gotten ambushed by a fleet of Galran cruisers.

With a tired sigh, Lance touches down in Red’s hanger, remembering the frustration he had felt at the sudden inconvenience.

The fight had been tough, as everyone had been out of sync for the majority of the battle. Keith, particularly, was off his game, and Lance had followed as a close second, too worried about the other boy to focus.

Eventually though, the team had pulled through- without the need for Voltron- thanks to a tired Pidge yelling at everyone to ‘get their shit together and work as a team’. After that the group had in fact worked as a single unit, taking out all of the ambushing cruisers, and returning to the caste in one piece.

The brunet walks down Red’s ramp, popping off his helmet and shaking out his smushed hair. Reaching the hangar floor, Lance turns and rests his forehead against Red’s leg in thanks, just as he use to do for Blue. “Thanks for the help, buddy.”

Red’s deep, rumbling purr fills his mind, and Lance can almost hear the ‘your welcome’.

And then Lance is waving goodbye the the giant mechanical beast and rushing off to Black’s hanger to see Keith.

As Lance races down the halls, feet pounding on the cold, metal flooring, he thinks.  

He has no doubt the other boy is stressing out after such a long fight- he knows full well how Keith works by now. The ravenette is probably blaming himself, as the leader, for all the trouble the other team members had at first. Not to mention the shorter boy’s own sloppy movements.

But Lance doesn’t blame Keith for it. In all honesty it was to be expected that, with all the weight the other boy has been placing on his own shoulders, the ravenette would be crumbling beneath it. At some point, it would be too much, and Keith would snap under everything he has piled up on himself.

But Lance refuses to let that happen. And he refuses to leave the ravenette alone to figure out how to stop it himself. Because Lance knows all too well what it feels like to take on all the weight of the world- to take all the blame.

In that way, him and Keith are both very alike.

When Lance bursts through the doors of the hanger, he is met with a crumpled Keith.

The other boy sits atop Black’s paw, motionless except for the fainting rise and fall of his back as he breathes, knees tucked into his chest and curled over himself. His arms are wrapped tightly around his legs, and his chin rests on his kneecaps. He looks at Lance from behind thick, inky bangs- his dark, violet eyes tracking the brunet’s form as the taller boy walks closer.

Lance frowns and closes the gap between him and the other boy, coming to stand in front of him.

The shorter boy lifts his head a bit more, and mumbles out a quiet, “I thought you’d come.”

Sighing, the brunet hops up on the paw beside Keith. Once situated, Lance rests back on his hands and looks upwards at the metal chest of the Black lion, preparing the uplifting speech he wants to give. The one he wants to give correctly.

It’s uncomfortably quiet for a moment as the two boys just take in each other’s company.

Lance finally breaks the awkward silence, knocking a knee against Keith's leg to grab his attention. “Man, that was a long fight, wasn’t it?” He starts.

Keith lets out a dark, humorless chuckle, still curled in on himself. “You’re telling me. If it wasn’t for Pidge, we probably would have lost.” The boy’s tense shoulder suddenly slump forward, and he throws his legs over the edge of Black's paw to sit like Lance. Keith balls his hands together in his lap and turns to face the brunet, his expression open, but distressed. He worries his bottom lip, and then Lance's hears what's been bothering Keith this entire time. “This is all my fault, isn’t it? The team is falling apart because I’m not a good enough leader.”

The look on the other boy’s face makes Lance’s chest hurt once more.

Lance sits up, angling his body to face the other boy and placing two soft hands on the ravenette’s shoulders. Keith blinks down at the contact, surprised, before looking back up at Lance. Wide, violet eyes meet Lance’s own, and the brunet can see the vulnerability and uncertainty there.

Lance mulls his next words over carefully before speaking.

“It wasn’t just your fault. Everyone was off today. Just look at me,” Lance frowns, gesturing to himself before returning his hand to the ravenette's shoulder, “I wasn’t paying enough attention. In fact, it was you who set me straight again. Without you I probably would have gotten myself hurt.”

Lance takes a breath, gripping Keith shoulder’s firmly, and leaning into his space to emphasize his seriousness. He looks Keith in the eyes as he says, “You’re a good leader, and you’re getting better everyday. No one thinks otherwise.” And then, softer, “I believe in you to make the right calls.”

Keith stares back into Lance’s earnest eyes, stunned. Lance watches as the ravenette’s face grows redder and redder by the second as the words sink in, and Lance feels his own face heat up in response.  Finally, the other boy pulls away gently and looks off to the side, embarrassed. His bangs fall over his eyes as he looks at the floor.

After a moment, Keith asks quietly, “You do?”

“Of course!” Lance leans back on his hands again. “And I trust Shiro and the Black Lion’s judgement. Neither of them would choose someone they didn't think was _two-thousand_ percent worthy.”

Keith snorts in amusement, and Lance prides himself on the improvement of the ravenette’s mood. Keith mutters, tone lighter, “I think your math’s a little off there.”

Lance shrugs nonchalantly. “Math is Pidge’s thing, not mine.” And then, running his hand through his hair, he adds, “I'm more of the devilishly handsome, smooth talking, hero type.” Lance shoots Keith a pair of finger guns and a grin.

Keith genuinely chuckles at the action, looking to Lance, and teases, “I thought you were our sharpshooter.”

“That too.” Lance affirms, voice full of pride. “But also don't forget, ‘Samurai, version 2.0, the new and improved’.” Lance jokes, gesturing in a wide sweep with his hands, as if presenting a new product, and winks at the shorter boy.

Keith really laughs at that, and knocks his shoulder playfully into Lance's. “Right, how could I forget?”

The atmosphere is nice after that. The two boys sit there, shoulder to shoulder, enjoying each others silent company. Lance swings his legs back and forth in rhythm, humming a short tune to fill the silence. Keith leans his weight on the brunet just a bit, and Lance's stomach flips pleasantly.

Finally, Keith leans away, scoops up his helmet and hops down from Black's paw. He looks back up at Lance with a soft smile. “I really should go get a shower and find something to do.” Keith looks down shyly, scuffing the toe of his left boot on the floor. “And Lance? Thank you. For everything.” And then Keith is waving his goodbyes and heading through the hangar doors.

Lance sits there, still swinging his legs, chest warm and butterflies in his stomach. He managed to get Keith smiling again. Keith _thanked_ him. Lance feels happy and warm.

So happy and warm that it takes Lance a few minutes to realize he is once again no closer to finding out what Keith enjoys. Lance smacks himself in the forehead, irritated with his own forgetfulness.

That was the perfect opportunity! He could have used the information to cheer Keith up further. Instead, Lance had let the other boy go off to do more busy work.

Lance groans in frustration, dragging a hand down his face.

 _Dios mío_ , why was such a simple thing so difficult?

Although...

Face heating up, Lance peaks through his fingers at the hanger door Keith had retreated through only minutes before. The brunet remembers the feeling of Keith leaning against him and the other boy's content smile as he did so. He remembers the sound of Keith genuine laughter, and how the other boy had knocked their shoulders together playfully.

So yeah, he hasn't quite de-stressed the other boy yet. But- with a small, fond smile- Lance thinks that maybe that this had been a good enough start.

 


	7. Act 3, Part 3 - Success

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be 12 Acts (hence the new name) with 1-4 parts an Act. Putting it together, that's somewhere around 30 chapters, so expect that for how long this fic will be.

A few nights later, Lance is _right back_ where he started when he had decided on this whole mess- laying in the cold floor of the training room, sprawled out tiredly on his back. Only this time, Lance hadn’t actually done anything but hunt Keith down and walk in on one of the other boy’s late night training session, and was now observing the ravenette fight the gladiator bots.

Lance watches as Keith ducks under the sword of one bot, slides past another, and thrusts his bayard through the middle of a third bot. As it drops through the training deck floor and into the abyss below, the ravenette then pivots on the ball of his foot, using the momentum he gains to make a wide arc with his blade. He slashes the closer of the other two bots across the chest, and it falls through the floor as well, leaving only one behind. Keith makes quick work of that one too, and then calls for the next level of the simulation.

Four bots drop from the ceiling, and the match begins.

It’s almost mechanical, the way the ravenette picks off the bots one by one. As if guided by instinct alone- limbs just cogs mindlessly turning in a fluid machine. Lance concludes that, as always when fighting, Keith is letting his mind wander somewhere _stressful_ while he tires his restless body out, because that’s just what the ravenette does.

At the moment, Lance knows the feeling well. He continues to watch, vaguely aware of his surroundings, because he too is caught up in his own thoughts.

It had been a week- _an entire week,_ Lance stresses- and the brunet still had no progress to show for his attempts at finding out how to de-stress the boy training in front of him. How could he, when Keith keeps disappearing for hours on end every day? It’s becoming difficult to track down the ravenette. And with so much going on in the castle right now- mission after mission- Lance just doesn’t have the time to look harder.

As time goes on, Lance is becoming even more worried about the other boy. Keith has been absent from the rest of castle life more and more lately- he’s missed meals more often than he’s attended them. And the ravenette has been training even harder than usual- Lance can see the exhaustion starting to set in. The ravenette’s eyes have darker circles than before, and his movements are becoming sluggish.

Lance wonders if the other boy has slept at all in the past week.

Predictably, Keith has been snapper than usual these past few days, even with Lance. The brunet could easily blame it on the lack of sleep and the string of ambushes that have hit the castle over the passed few days, but it seems to Lance like it's something more than just that.

Whatever it is the other boy is doing- and possibly hiding- the ravenette definitely doesn’t want it interrupted, and is therefore lashing out at anyone who gets too close.

Lance feels as though he can understand where the agitation comes from. All this getting nowhere has Lance himself getting more and more frustrated, and ironically- the brunet realizes- also has made him more than a little _stressed_.

Lance laughs bitterly to himself at the thought. His brain was right- Keith is going to be the death of him.

And possibly himself.

Lance grimaces. The brunet had no idea what to do anymore- he’s at a complete loss. What _could_ he do, other than drag the other boy somewhere and force him to have fun? Snatch him away from training? Lance would lose several limbs if he tried.

And Keith was giving him nothing to work with! For all he knew about the ravenette, Lance still doesn’t know what the other boy enjoys doing. And Keith is seemingly refusing to tell him. It’s almost like he’s avoiding the entire team with his disappearing act.

But, Lance reminds himself, that doesn’t seem very Keith-like. The more likely answer is that Keith doesn’t even realize what he’s doing.

So that's why the brunet had sought the other boy out when the ravenette hadn’t shown up to dinner once again. Lance had to try _something_ to help the stressed to hell ravenette out.

But as luck had it, he had found Keith here, just starting his nightly training session. Keith had snapped at him to wait if he needed something. So waiting was what Lance was doing.

But, when Lance checks his phone, he sees it is passed what the castle deems as 2am.

Lance curses the boy in front of him for keeping him up this late. And _fuck_ if it isn’t just adding to his frustration to being going without a good night’s rest. It doesn’t help that Lance has been here for who knows how long without Keith saying a _single_ _word_ to him. No, the other boy is too caught up in his fight to even realize Lance is still there.

Lance is starting to feel his blood boil with both concern and exasperation.

So- in that concern and rising exasperation- Lance decides he has had enough of watching the other boy train himself to death. He’s going to put an end to this, consequences be damned. With a drawn out groan, and two fistfuls of his own hair, Lance calls out, “Simulation end!”

The bots immediately freeze in place, and then drop through the floor.

Keith whirls around on him, panting and sweaty and pink in the face- from exertion or irritation Lance doesn’t know.

“What the hell, Lance?!” Keith cries, stomping over to him, bayard deactivating with a flash. Lance throws the other boy a scowl from where he sits, which is matched by Keith’s own annoyed glare. The ravenette looms over him. “I had that! Why would you end the simulation?”

The question is a genuine one, but all it does is further piss Lance off. The boy in front of him _doesn’t even realize_ what’s wrong with all his obsessive training and lack of sleep, or that Lance is worried about him. It makes Lance angry- not at the other boy, but in general.

So, in his misplaced worry turned anger, Lance takes out his frustration on Keith in the same familiar way he had when they’d first arrived in space. He pushes himself to his feet and shoves his face in Keith’s, yelling out, “Because you’re literally going to kill both of us!”

The action provokes Keith’s own temper and he shoves back, forehead pressing against the brunet’s. The ravenette locks eyes with Lance, and the taller boy watches as they go from irritated to angry. “What the hell are you going on about?! I had it covered!" The ravenette exclaims.  And then, sounding hurt, he asks, "Do you not trust that I can handle a couple of bots by myself?”

Lance reels back, surprised by the other boy's train of thought, and shouts, “ _¡Dios Mío_! That’s not what I'm saying, Keith!”

And then Lance is slumping forward, groaning in even more frustration. This is not how he wanted his talk with Keith to go. He doesn’t want to fight with the ravenette- he wants to help him.

So, the brunet takes a deep breath, and lets it out back through his nose, dropping his hands to his sides.

Both boys deflate at the motion.

Lance starts again, much calmer, “Keith, buddy, look. I’m trying here, ok? Like really trying.”

Keith’s anger is replaced by genuine confusion. He leans back on his heels, suddenly looking very awkward and out of place. “What?” When Lance doesn’t immediately elaborate, he adds, now concerned, “Lance, what are you talking about?”

Lance sighs, starting his explanation, voice soft and concerned, “Keith, you’ve been training yourself too hard. And you’ve been taking on too much responsibility. You’re wearing yourself out hardcore.”

Keith crosses his arms over his chest stubbornly and starts to protest, “There’s a reason-”

“ _Dude,_ ” Lance gestures to the ravenette’s tired face and disheveled appearance, “It looks like you haven’t slept all week. I don’t think the reason matters anymore.” And placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder, he softly adds, “Keith I’m worried about you.”

At that, Keith starts to look guilty. The shorter boy glances away from Lance’s steady gaze and to the floor. His shoulders hunch in and his arms wrap tighter around himself, fingers digging into the flesh of his arms. It looks almost painful to the brunet.

Keith worries his bottom lip, as if debating something, but ultimately stays silent.

“So,"Lance continues when the other boy doesn't speak. He lets go of the ravenette’s shoulder. “I've been trying for days now to figure out what your hobbies are. I wanted to find out what you enjoy, so I could surprise you with it and de-stress you. But I guess that didn’t go so well.” Lance scratches the back of his neck and looks away, embarrassed now that he’s admitted it.

At that Keith’s face morphs into realization. “And that’s why you’ve been asking weird questions.” He surmises, arms falling back to his sides and back straightening as he loses his defensive posture.

“Yes!” Lance exclaims, relieved that the other boy gets it. And pinching the bridge of his nose, he adds, “Do you even realize how frustrating all this was? You disappear for hours every day and no one can find you! How am I supposed to ask when you not even here?”

Keith blinks, and then the guilty look creeps over the ravenette’s face once more. “Oh.” The shorter boy murmurs.

After a moment of silence, the shorter boy speaks up again. “Come with me.” He orders, gesturing with a wave of his hand. Keith brushes past Lance and shuffles over to the wall. He slides his back down it and plops heavily on the floor, patting the ground in a much more subdued mimicry of how Lance has done in the past.

Hesitant and confused at the turn of events, Lance follows, but slides down beside him all the same. The brunet turns to Keith, not entirely sure where this is going. Still, he subconsciously presses his side into the ravenette’s as he always does. Keith presses back.

“Something I enjoy, right?” Keith mumbles into the air, question rhetoric and already distracted by his thoughts. Lance nods in confirmation anyway.

“Ah, I know.” Keith finally announces.

The ravenette presses the top of his head into the wall behind him, and soft eyes look towards the ceiling. A small, fond smile graces the other boy’s lips, and Lance wonders faintly what he’d have to do to make a face like that be directed at him.

The boy next to Lance sighs, then tucks his legs into his chest and wraps both arms around them. The ravenette presses a cheek into his knees, closing his eyes.

And then it’s silent. Lance waits patiently.

Keith is so quiet when he finally speaks, that Lance almost misses it.

“My father was the only person I had in my life for a long time, since my mother left before I could remember her.” The shorter boy’s voice wavers the slightest bit with his next words, and Lance’s heart aches for the ravenette, ”I was about eight when he passed away, but I remember the time before that vividly.”

Lance places a hand on Keith’s arm, comforting. If Keith even notices, he doesn’t say. There’s a pause, and the shorter boy’s voice is back to its normal state when he speaks again.

“Every time he came home, no matter how late or how early, he would boot up this old game system and let me play a round with him. It was this old fighting game, a one-on-one kind of thing. Knockout your opponent to win.” Keith explains, smiling to himself.

Lance hums in acknowledgement. Lance’s _papá_ wasn’t very big on them, but his older brothers Marco and Luis use to play video games with the brunet whenever they weren’t busy with each other. Lance can understand the sentiment.

“We played that one game for years.” Keith murmurs quietly. “It was the only one we had- we were so poor. And I haven’t played a video game since.” Keith lifts his head to look at Lance. His expression has lost its normal edge, now soft and open. “It’s kind of sad, now that I think about it. ”

“Nah, it’s not _that_ sad.” Lance smiles, looking Keith in the eye. “And he really does sound like a great man, Keith. Thank you for telling me about him.”

Keith nods, and then moves to stand up. Lance’s hand is falls from the other boy’s arm, and the brunet briefly mourns the loss of touch.

The ravenette offers a hand from where he stands over the still sitting Lance. “There. Now you know my secret: I love video games.” Keith’s toothy grin is blinding to Lance’s eyes. The brunet can feel his heart skip a beat.

Keith should smile like this more often, Lance decides.

He grabs the shorter boy’s hand and is surprised to find himself effortlessly hauled up by the ravenette. Once balanced on his feet, Lance looks at the other boy’s face. Keith continues grinning, but the brunet swears he can see a certain fondness softening the ravenette’s violet eyes.

Lance swallows. Could that expression possibly be directed towards Lance? Or was the other boy still thinking of his father? The brunet wishes he knew.

Lance shakes their still locked hands firmly, as if making a deal- his own secret promise to the shorter boy.

“I can work with that.” Lance states determinedly, a hundred ideas already swirling around in his mind.

This new information is exactly what Lance has been looking for.

And now, he has a plan.


	8. Act 3, Part 4 - Realization

It’s very late the next night when Lance finally finishes his preparations. The brunet straightens his back, coming out of a crouch, and admires his work proudly. His eyes follow the trail of cords and blinking gadgets that litter his floor, and finally come to rest on where they supply power to one giant screen placed across from his bed.

Perfect. Everything is ready. And now all he needs is Keith.

Careful to avoid tripping over the mess that was once his floor, Lance spins on his heels and marches forwards out of his door. He starts down the shared hall to Keith’s bedroom with purpose.

Once there, Lance pauses in front of threshold. He stares down the towering metal door with the most menacing scowl he can manage.

He will not be intimidated out of knocking this time.

But, regardless of his thoughts, the familiar, uncomfortable feeling he gets whenever faced with the prospect of Keith’s rejection still begins to eat away at his gut.

Lance shoves it down and glares even harder.

The brunet can do this, he reminds himself, straightening his back and lifting his chin proudly.

Keith will easily agree to come with him, and it definitely won’t be awkward to drag the other boy into his bedroom at half past midnight. The two boys will hangout, and have some actual, good-hearted fun. They won’t end up arguing, and Keith will finally lose some of the stress he’s is carrying around so stubbornly.

Lance will make it happen. He swears it.

So, with a fierce determination, Lance braces himself- and lifts a fist to knock gently. Because, for all Lance knows, this is the one night the other boy is asleep.

The sound softly echoes throughout the hall and Lance freezes, holding his breath and waiting a few ticks.

There is no answer.

Lance leans towards the door curiously, ear angled at the thick metal. The brunet listens closely for any sign of life coming from the other side of the door. There’s a brief moment of silence where Lance thinks Keith really is asleep, and then he hears faint shuffling coming from the room. Lance leans back.

So Keith _is_ awake.

Meaning Lance needs to knock again, and louder. His shoulders slump. Of course the ravenette couldn’t have heard him the first time. These things never were that easy.

With a deep breathe to calm his raging nerves, the brunet pounds on the door more incessantly.

Perhaps a bit _too_ incessantly.

Lance winces as he hears the other boy’s shout of surprise and something metal crash to the ground loudly. Curses are now coming from the other side of the door, and Lance grimaces.

Oops. He hopes nothing broke.

There’s a hurried movement on the other side of the door, and then it is sliding open. Lance finds himself face to face with a slightly disheveled Keith.

The other boy’s his hair is tousled and his jacket missing, but the ravenette is distinctively wide awake. And the dark circles under the Keith’s eyes tells Lance that he has been for a while. Lance glances over the shorter’s boy’s shoulder to survey the damage he's caused.

Various cleaning supplies sit piled together in one corner of the room. A empty bucket lays on its side next to a pile of very damp rags, and Lance concludes that the metal container had been at least half full before being knocked to the ground moments before.

Nothing's broken, but Lance still feels guilty. But before he can apologize, his attention is snapped back to the other boy as the ravenette speaks.

“Lance?” Keith questions with eyebrows raised high in surprise, almost as he doesn’t believe the taller boy is really standing in front of him. The ravenette’s violet eyes turn sharp and sweep the hall with intent- searching for something amiss, Lance guesses. The shorter boy’s sounds much more serious when he asks, “What’s going on?”

As the ravenette’s intense gaze lands on Lance, the brunet immediately forgets everything he had prepared to say over the last few hours- his explanation, his argument, his rebuttal- _everything._ His brain goes completely blank.

Lance opens his mouth to speak- to assure Keith that everything is fine and this is just a friendly visit- but his mouth goes dry, and he snaps it right back shut.

A thousand different scenarios and what ifs fly through his mind at once, and rejection is written on several hundred of them.

Would Keith even want to hang out with him? Or was Lance about to overstep some invisible boundary?

Lance doesn’t know, and that makes him far too nervous. But the ravenette is starting to stare at him in concern, and Lance realizes he doesn't have the time to debate all the possibilities in his head.

So instead, Lance panics and yanks the Keith out of the doorway by the wrist, starting down the hall with the other boy in tow. The ravenette gives a yelp of surprise.

Lance immediately asks himself what the fuck he thinks he’s doing.

What he just did is _snatch Keith out of his room at nearly 1am in the morning without a word._

And apparently Keith is thinking the same thing.

“Lance, what the hell-” The other boy starts again, but Lance whirls around, and does the first thing that come to mind. He stops the ravenette by booping Keith’s nose with the index finger on his free hand. The shorter boy’s head reels back in surprise, but his stance unwinds immediately at the childish touch.

Lance stares at his hand in shock.

Nice. Just great. Lance is on a roll tonight. How many embarrassing thing can he do in a row? He wonders sarcastically.

Keith doesn’t call him out on the strange action- and Lance is grateful for that- but the ravenette sounds much more annoyed when he says, “ _Lance,_ what-”

“Calm down, Keith.” Lance interjects, finally finding his voice. About time, he thinks.

The brunet turns, starting back down the hall in a much more relaxed pace, hand still wrapped around Keith's wrist. “Nothing bad is happening, I promise. I’ve got a surprise for you.” Lance explains, craning his neck to look back at the other boy and raising a finger to his lips. “Now quiet or you’ll wake everyone else up.”

Confusion is written all over Keith’s face, but he nods, letting himself be dragged along by the brunet.

Lance smiles to himself, and his nerves calm at the easy acceptance of the shorter boy. Honestly why had he expected anything else?

They arrive at their destination in a few more steps. Lance watches as Keith eyes the brunet’s door, twisting his free hand into the hem of his shirt anxiously. “Your room?” The ravenette asks.

Lance hums cheerily in response, looking away to punch in the code to his door with the hand not wrapped around Keith’s wrist. The door slides open, and Lance leads Keith in and over to his bed. “Sit.” The brunet commands, and Keith hesitantly takes a seat.

Lance, now in his element, feels much more confident. He leans over the shorter boy, hands on his hips and eyes shining excitedly.

Keith looks up at him, worrying him lower lip and undoubtedly confused about what’s going on.

All in due time! Lance thinks to himself, spinning on his heels. He sweeps a lanky arm out in front of him, gesturing grandly to the rest of the room.

“Welcome to my room!” Lance announces proudly. “ _Mi casa es tu casa.”_ Lance jokingly parrots the welcoming phrase he’s heard his _mamá_ say to guest for years. But when Lance turns back to him, Keith is still looking at the brunet, confusion on his face greater than before.

Lance finds himself confused by the other boy’s confusion.

The two boy blink at each other.

“Your what?” Keith finally asks, frowning. His eyebrow pinch together as if trying to decipher the apparently unfamiliar phrase Lance had just uttered. Finally the other boy settles on, “Did you just insult me?”

Lance shakes his head and snickers. How far under a rock has Keith lived all these years? Instead of explaining, Lance jokes, “Of course not, _cari_ _ño_. I would _never_.”

Keith pushes his bottom lip out in what Lance deems to be a cute pout. The ravenette then crosses his arms over his chest and huffs out, “You definitely just insulted me.”

Lance grins mischievously. What the other boy didn’t know wouldn’t kill him, he decides. So, instead of responding, the brunet turns away from the still pouting ravenette, facing the screen and console sitting across from the bed.

Pidge and him had bought the Earth brand gaming console months ago back at the space mall, and the two had rigged it up to work on the castle’s power supply with stolen parts from Hunk. Brilliant work on his part, honestly. Pidge did okay.

Anyway, the console had sat abandoned in a distant common room for months due to the two paladins being preoccupied. Lance had been too busy training with Keith and doing missions to play, and Pidge had been too busy doing whatever it is that the little gremlin does on a daily basis.

So, Lance- and a reluctant Hunk after the brunet had begged for help- had spent all morning moving the pieces into his bedroom. Then Lance had set this bad boy back up with the help of an annoyed Pidge, who- when finding out who Lance was doing all this for- had teased him mercilessly about his crush.

He may or may not now owe Pidge a few favors for their help and sworn secrecy.

But, Lance decides, all the trouble will be worth it if it’s going to take some of the tension out of Keith’s shoulders. Hopefully, it will.

Lance saunters over to the console, tapping the button to turn it on. The start menu for a two-player fighting game springs to life on the screen, and Lance flips the light switch on the wall, plunging the room into near darkness.

Which, of course, is perfect for a late night gaming session.

Lance then spins around to face Keith, back to the screen and a controller held in each hand. “Ta-da!” The brunet sings, shaking the controllers in a way meant to mimic jazz-hands. The action throws choppy shadows all around the room.

“ _T_ _his_ ,” Lance gestures to the console sitting to the side of the screen, “Is the Mercury Gameflux II console from Earth I bought back at the space mall. _You_ ,” The brunet points at Keith, “Are going to come to my room and play this with me whenever you can’t sleep at night. No more stress-filled, midnight training, got it?”

When Lance finishes, the ravenette looks stunned- eyes wide and reflecting what little light is left in the room. Keith turns to the console, to the stack of games in the corner, to the pile of earth-brand snacks at the foot of the bed (all of which Lance had payed a shit-ton of GAC for, by the way) and then back to Lance. 

Lance beams proudly at the reaction. The brunet really outdid himself this time. He would pat himself on the back if he had a free hand at the moment, even if it would earn him an odd look from the other boy.

But then everything comes crumbling down on Lance as Keith bursts out into loud laughter. The brunet freezes, dropping the controllers to his side, arms dangling limply. It’s now his turn to be stunned. Lance stares, eyes wide, at the scene unfolding before him in the dim light.

The ravenette throws his head back and clutches his stomach- laugh unlike any of the soft chuckles and snorts the brunet has heard from the other boy before. His eyes are slammed shut, wrinkling in the corners in genuine joy. White teeth peek out from behind pink lips- which Lance tears his eyes away from after a moment.

The laugh itself makes his chest warm, and Lance is glad to see Keith happy- but still the brunet can’t help but feel like he’s the tail end of some joke. So Lance pouts, wounded, and asks, “Hey, buddy, what’s so funny?”

Keith laughter dies down and he wipes at his eyes. “It’s nothing, Lance. I’m just really happy.” The shorter boy says as he gestures to everything Lance has set up. Then Keith’s face breaks into a toothy grin that reflects the screen’s light, and Lance feels the butterflies in his stomach start up at the sight.

“So you agree?” Lance asks hopefully.

Keith’s smile and voice turns softer, and the other boy holds out a hand, making grabbing motions. “Yeah, I do. Now come on and give me one.”

Lance obliges, shuffling over to the other boy. Lance bows dramatically and deposits one controller into an pale, outstretched palm. He deepens his voice and says royally, “Your controller, _sir._ ” The brunet finishes with an suggestive eyebrow waggle that only causes Keith to laugh more, and the butterflies in Lance’s stomach flutter even harder.

Keith should really laugh more often, Lance decides. It’s a nice sound.

And then Lance is striding over to his bed and plopping down a few good inches away from the other boy to give them both some elbow room. Lance leans over and bumps his shoulder against Keith’s purposefully. “Ok, _so._ Ready to get your ass kicked?”

Keith snorts, amused, and shoves back. “You wish.” And then the ravenette holds up his controller in a ‘I’m ready’ stance, and Lance follows suit. The brunet presses down on the start button and the screen begins it’s countdown.

Keith grins like a cheshire cat. “Let me show you how it’s really done.”

Lance grins just as wide. “The stage is all yours, _cariño._ ” He teases.

And then the screen lights up with a giant green “GO!” and they begin, buttons clacking furiously.

-_-_-_-

After a couple dozen matches, the score ends up in a tie (much to Lance’s disappointment), and a exhausted Keith stumbles to Lance’s door around 5am castle-time. Lance follows after him, planning on seeing the shorter boy off to his room. The brunet is just as tired, but watching the other boy blink blearily at the door before it slides open, Lance wonders just how long the ravenette has been awake.

Distracted, Lance nearly runs into Keith’s back as the shorter boy pauses suddenly in the doorway.

As Lance finds his balance, the ravenette turns to face the taller boy slowly, hands twisting at the hem of his shirt and much more awake than before. The shorter boy looks away and chews on his bottom lip nervously. Lance is about to ask what’s wrong when two arms wrap his middle and a face is pressed into his shoulder.

Lance is immediately sobered from his sleepy haze.

The other’s boy’s fingers twist into the material of Lance’s shirt, and the ravenette’s chest presses into his own. It’s a bit of an awkward hug, and the angle is odd, but Lance’s heart thuds in his chest all the same. The brunet prays to whatever higher being that Keith can’t hear it nearly beating out of his chest.

Lance moves to place his arms around the other boy in turn, but before he can, the ravenette is slipping away from him. Keith backs away, face burning a bright red. Lance feels his own cheeks heat to the same color as he stares dumbly in Keith’s direction.

“Um-” Lance starts, but Keith is faster.

“Goodnight, Lance.” The ravenette says hurriedly. “And thank you for tonight.”

And then the door is sliding shut in Lance’s face and Keith is gone.

Lance stands there, shocked, butterflies in his stomach fluttering wildly as his brain catches up to the last few minutes.

Had Keith actually just hugged him? Lance hadn’t just imagined the whole thing in his sleepy state, right?

Man, Lance is far too tired for this.

The brunet trudges over to his bed and collapses back onto the soft mattress with a thud, legs dangling off the edge and arms spread out wide. He stares up at the stars drawn on the ceiling of his little bed pod. The paint glows dimly in the low light of the room.

Keith had hugged him. _Actually_ hugged him.

Lance lifts two hands to cover his burning face. There’s a pause where Lance listens to the thudding of his own heart, and then the brunet is coming to a not so sudden, and pretty obvious realization.

His crush on the other boy is not as little, and not as tiny as he had thought. No, the brunet really, _really_ likes the other boy.

And as he drifts off to sleep, he thinks that it might just be a problem.


	9. Act 4, Part 1 - Anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW; Keith has an anxiety attack near the end of the chapter.

It’s less than a week later when, in the early hours of the morning, Allura’s voice rings out over the castle comms.

Keith- who had been polishing his blade in an attempt to calm his anxious nerves- freezes at the sound.

“Paladins, to the common room immediately!” And after a brief pause, the Altean adds, “Your armour is not needed.”

The comms crackle loudly as the transmission ends, and Keith’s rubs at his ears in annoyance. They really need to get that fixed.

Keith stands, stretching out his back from where he had been hunched over for so long. It pops several times and the ravenette winces. The he hastily starts putting his polishing materials away. 

Even though it doesn't sound like the ship is in immediate danger, Keith can't help but have a sinking feeling in his gut. Keith’s anxiety has been thrumming right under the surface of his skin all week, just waiting for something to go wrong, and he really would rather be left alone to deal with it himself today.

But, whatever this is about, it can't be good if Allura is calling everyone together this early in the morning. He has to go.

Keith slots his knife into its sheath and heads to the door. He yanks his jacket off its hook, and slides it on, adjusting the cuffs and then the collar. Satisfied, he marches out and into the hall, legs moving briskly. The ravenette had better hurry, or Allura will have his head.

He picks up the pace even more.

Though, as the ravenette passes Lance’s door, he pauses. He briefly considers knocking and making sure the brunet is even awake. Keith knows that the taller boy tends to sleep with headphones in and with the music turned up high. As such, the majority of the time the brunet misses summons like this unless the alarms are blaring.

Lance says the music keeps him well rested and helps him to concentrate better the next day.

Keith thinks it's terribly counter-productive, and he’s told the brunet as much. But Lance refuses to listen to his reasoning.

With a sigh, the ravenette decides he might as well check on the other boy. But just as he turns towards the door, Allura’s voice crackles over the comms once more.

“ _Paladins,_ ” She urges, “To the common room please.”

Keith debates for only a moment, before turning away from the door and hurrying down the hall. If Lance _is_ asleep, then he can deal with Allura’s impatient wrath himself- Keith isn’t interested.

As the ravenette resumes his trek to the common room, he reflects.

The situation as of late has been… less than ideal.

In fact, it’s been horrible for the team, and even worse for the anxiety prone ravenette.

More and more ambushes have been jumping the castle these past few weeks. In the past handful of days alone, they have had five fleets of Galra cruisers attack them out of the blue.

At first the team fought off the assaults with Voltron. But as time progresses, the lions have become more and more damaged, and the team has become more and more exhausted from the constant onslaught of attacks. The castle itself isn’t faring much better. Its defenses have been drained of energy, and Allura has started to wormhole them away in hopes of preserving what little power in the partical barrier is left.

But no matter where the castle ends up, within a day a fleet of Galra cruisers with appear and surround them. It seems as though the Galra Empire is waiting around every corner and in every nook and cranny in the universe. 

The team doesn't even have time to go and gather more supplies.

If the goal is to whittle down the castle and it's resources, then the plan is working. And far too well, Keith thinks.

The whole situation brings up an important question- is someone somehow tracking them again?

The prospect is starting to worry Keith and he can tell the whole ordeal is setting the entire team on edge as well. Tension on the ship is currently at an all time high. That, combined with lack of sleep, is making everyone extremely irritable- Keith especially.

Keith has barely had time to hang out with Lance again with all the drills the team has been running in between attacks. It makes the ravenette angry. He was just starting to relax with the taller boy’s help, and now he’s become more stressed than ever.

And it doesn't help that Kolivan's offer of joining the Blades full-time still hangs over Keith head. Why they want him, Keith doesn't know. 

Keith snaps his attention back to the present as he passes through the threshold of the common room. He immediately pauses in the doorway and scans the room. Surprised, he realizes that he is the last person to arrive. How that’s possible, he doesn’t know.

Six pairs of tired but inquisitive eyes glance to him as the door slides shut, and for a brief moment, Keith’s pulse jumps, afraid he’s done something strange. It evens back out as everyone looks away and goes back to their own conversations.

Shiro sits in the bend of the long, ‘U’ shaped couch. He leans back into his seat, eyes closed and half-asleep, conversing lowly with Pidge as they type something on their laptop. The small paladin pauses as Shiro does, and starts back up when the salt-and-pepper man speaks. Keith figures Pidge is typing something up for the older man- probably some kind of diplomatic letter.

Keith looks to Pidges right.

Lance is indeed awake, and surprisingly it looks as he has been for a while. The brunet is already dressed in his typical attire and his hair is neatly combed. Currently he is still looking at Keith from where the shorter boy walked in, and the brunet lifts a hands and waves as soon as Keith catches his eye.

Keith gives a strained smile back in greeting.

At that moment Hunk starts chattering away about something beside Lance, and the brunet turns away to where he and the larger boy sit crammed together, responding in turn to whatever was said.

Keith gaze falls on the opposing side of the couch. The Alteans sit together, talking urgently in hushed voices. Allura looks predictably exhausted, but Keith is a bit surprised to notice Coran looks just as worn out as everyone else.

He must be working hard on castle repairs from their last few scuffles.

Satisfied with everyone in check, Keith strides over to the couch, and half perches, half leans on the armrest nearest to the door. He crosses his arms over his chest protectively, angling towards the only entrance in the room. From here, Keith has a straight shot to the door. An intruder would have to go through him to get to the rest of the team, and Keith can react the quickest if something goes wrong.

And things have been going wrong a lot lately. The castle is bound to get ambushed again soon, Keith thinks, the thrumming of anxiety under his skin acting up once more.

Keith’s frown darkens.

It would be just like the Galra Empire to ambush them all in the early hours of the morning when they were unprepared and out of uniform.

Keith is brought out of his thoughts by a sudden rapid movement out of the corner of his eye and the sound of his name. His eyes snap to Lance, only to find the other boy staring at him, waving a hand to get his attention. The brunet shoots him an annoyed look as they lock eyes, and gestures wildly at the three feet between them with a pout.

“Keith,” Lance repeats, patting the cushion. “C’mere.”

Keith decides he would rather not.

His mood has been extra unstable lately with all the sudden stress, and Keith is already heavily on edge today. And then there’s that ever present humming of anxiety and agitation in his blood making it worse.  

Keith doesn’t know if he can even converse with the other boy without getting annoyed and snapping out something he doesn’t mean. And Keith doesn’t want to ruin whatever dynamic the two have developed lately by being an ass.

So instead, Keith shakes his head slowly at Lance, hoping the other boy will understand his silent warning.

But the brunet does not give up- he jabs a finger into the cushion of the couch with a frown and stares Keith down.

Keith glares back.

Today is not the best day for Lance’s persistence.

The shorter boy wants nothing more than to be left alone right now. And, as well as Lance knows him, Keith feels the other boy should be able to tell that from the tense hunch of the ravenette’s shoulders and the permanent frown embedded on his face.

Keith opens his mouth to say as much when Allura speaks up, and the ravenette snaps his mouth shut. With one last pointed look shared between him and Lance, Keith turns to face the white haired Altean.

“Everyone,” Allura begins, smiling thinly, and Keith can almost feel the tiredness radiating off of her. “You must be wondering why we have called you here today.”

The room immediately sobers and becomes attentive, collectively nodding their heads in response. Keith watches from the corner of his eye as Lance leans forward, eyes sharply calculating and listening closely- ready to form a plan as needed. Keith tears his own gaze forward, already expecting the worst.

What the princess says is not what the ravenette expects at all, and in a way, it really is worse.

“Well I have a proposition for you all. As you all know, we here at the castle have been busier than ever these past few movements.” Allura pauses as the room collectively nods their heads in agreement. Then she continues, voice sounding genuinely more upbeat, “Therefore, I would like us to all have a ‘game night’, as you earthlings put it.”

Keith blinks in shock. It takes a moment for the unexpected words to register. A game night? Surely the princess can’t be serious.

The room shares Keith’s shocked moment of silence, and then atmosphere of the room flips on its head.  

“A _game night_? Are you serious?” Lance echos the ravenette’s thoughts in wonder, as if not believing his own ears. Allura nods in confirmation and the brunet lets out a cry of excitement, turning to his friends. “You hear that guys?! A game night!”

Pidge covers their ears at the loud sound. “Yeah I think the _entire_ _solar system_ just heard you, Lance.”

Lance ignores them, and instead focuses on Hunk. “We should totally teach them Go Fish.”

Hunk gives a small smile. “Or maybe UNO? I always loved UNO.”

Lance shakes his head dismissively. “No, no. Go Fish is clearly superior. Pidge?”

Pidge doesn’t even look up from their laptop as they drawl out, “I don’t know Lance, I think I’m with Hunk on this one.”

Lance reels back in mock betrayal, a hand placed over his heart. “Blasphemy!” He shouts, then leans forward in his seat. “What do you think Shiro- UNO or Go Fish?"

All eyes turn to the salt-and-pepper man. Keith looks to Shiro as well, silently hoping for him to be the voice of reason here. They don’t have time for a ‘game night’ or whatever. The castle has been under constant attack recently, and they need to be ready to defend it at a moment’s notice.

But instead of saying that, Shiro suggests with a shrug, “Perhaps some Poker would be nice?”

Keith feels almost betrayed. Shouldn’t the team be taking things more seriously right now?

“Lance.“ Keith calls out, hoping he can at least get the other boy to see his reasoning. But the brunet in question simply continues chattering away, not hearing the shorter boy in the least.

“No, no! Poker is too hard! We need something simple and quick. _Clearly_ that is Go Fish.”

“It’s two against one for UNO, Lance.” Pidge states offhandedly, not even glancing up from their laptop.

“Yeah man. We totally win.” Hunk agrees, then shrugs apologetically when Lance shoots him a pointed look.

Keith grinds his teeth, feeling his temper rising. He stands up straighter and raises the volume of his voice, trying to call out to the other boy again.

“ _Lance._ ”

But the brunet is too caught in in making his point to even notice.

Lance turns to Allura and Coran excitedly. “Well, what do you both think?”

Allura looks unsure. “I am not entirely sold on either of them to be honest. I will admit the titles of your Earth games confuse me. Does this ‘go fish’ actually involve theses ‘fish’ creatures you have told me of?”

“What, _no_.” Lance answers incredulously.

Coran taps his finger to his chin in genuine consideration, “Well, my boy, this ‘go fish’ of yours certainly has an interesting name. I think I would prefer to learn it over ‘Unu’.”

“Actually It’s UNO. ” Hunk corrects, raising a finger, but Lance is louder.

He cheers, turning to Pidge and Hunk, a smug smile on his face. “See? Even Coran thinks Go Fish is better!”

“It’s real boring is what it is.” Pidge mutters.

At this point, Keith realizes he is being completely ignored. He can feel his blood boil with frustration and anger.

“Hey! Quiet you!” Lance admonishes. “Go Fish is a perfect beginners game. I’ll have you know my niece and nephew love it.”

Hunk pipes up from beside Lance. “Yeah but, aren’t they like four and five?"

Pidge snickers.

Lance turns to Hunk, exasperation clear on his face. “Does it even matter?” Lance crosses his arms over his chest childishly. “Whatever, we have a tie now. Keith has to break it.”

At that, Pidge groans in displeasure.

Keith opens his mouth to protest, but the small paladin is speaking before the ravenette can get the words out.

“Lance we all know he’s just going to agree with whatever you say. That’s not fair.” They complain.

Keith feels a pin prick of hurt at that. Is that all he is to these people? Not a leader, but someone who just blindly follows the whims of whoever he cares about? Keith clenches his jaw, and glares at the small paladin. They don’t even notice.

“No he won’t!” Lance defends immediately. The brunet pauses for a moment, seeming to process his own words. “I mean he _will_ ," He corrects hastily. "But it’ll be because he realizes the game is clearly superior. Unlike _some_ people.” Lance narrows his eyes at his two friends purposefully.

Pidge rolls their eyes. “Sure, sure. Act like he doesn’t agree with everything you say nowadays.”

Lance pouts. “He doesn’t!”

Hunk places a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “He kind of does, buddy.”

Keith clenches his fist, anger finally boiling over. He is tired of being talked about as if he’s not standing right here. The ravenette is opening his mouth and yelling before he can even stop himself. “That’s _enough_!”

In an instant, he feels everyone’s eyes on him.

Lance has the decency to look guilty, as if he just realized Keith was there, listening to them argue about the shorter boy. The rest of the room stares, shocked, and Keith feels his throat go dry at the sudden attention. He can hear the sound of his own heartbeat in the stunned silence that follows.

Keith shoves down his anxiety and whips around to face Allura, and growls out, “No offense princess, but do we really have the time for _this_?” Keith gesture around the room angrily.

“You know what the Galra Empire is capable of!” He continues, because they really should know all too well how cruel the Galra can be. The monsters took Shiro’s arm and tortured him for fuck’s sake.

“They could be here at any moment!” Keith gestures with a wide sweep of his hands. “They could come from anywhere!” No one is even on guard right now. It would only take a minute for them to get on board and attack the team. In fact, they could already be up here in the time the team has wasted, Keith realizes with a spike in his pulse.

“We’re being ambushed left and right!” Keith reminds them. “And we can’t even get away because they _keep finding us!_ ” His voice cracks, and he feels his throat tighten.

The floodgates that have been keeping his anxiety from the past few day at bay break, and his chest starts to ache at the sudden release of pressure.

Keith points to the princess, voice desperate. “Allura is too exhausted to keep wormhole-ing away, and everyone else is so tired we couldn’t fight if we wanted to! We need to be making a plan! We can’t run forever!”

Eventually they won’t be able to escape the attacks. They can’t defend the castle in this state, and the castle can’t defend itself with all it’s broken parts. They’re all coming to the end of their ropes. Why can’t anyone see that?

“For all we know the Galra are somehow tracking us again!” And they could be after Shiro. They could take his brother away again. Keith feels sick.

“You all need to _take this seriously_ !” Keith cries out, and suddenly he feels as though he can’t breathe. If they don’t start figuring out a plan, the Galra are going to win. And when they do, they’ll kill the team, and Shiro, and _Lance_ -

Keith’s mouth finally snaps shut, and the ravenette feels his throat tighten in distress.

Stunned silence follows his outburst.

Keith throat feels sore from all the shouting and he feels suddenly far too nauseous. The ravenette looks down to his hands and is shocked to find them shaking. Keith turns a hand slowly, looking for the trick of the light, but there is none. He lets out a breathy, disbelieving laugh.

He’s having an anxiety attack over this.

Someone is talking to him now, but the blood is pounding loudly through his ears and the sound swims in and out. Keith tries to swallow, but his mouth is completely dry. He drops his hands back to his sides and lets them hang there limply.

Keith looks back up, only to find the whole room still watching him. His pulse rises even higher, and it feels like his heart is going to break through his ribs and out of his chest.

Shiro stands closest to him, hand reaching out cautiously, as if approaching a wounded animal.

“Keith-” He starts gently, but Keith is not listening.

All eyes are on him. Watching. Waiting. _Judging._

Keith swallows thickly. He can't do this. Not now. Not with them. The ravenette needs to be out and away from this room _right_ _now._

So, without another thought, Keith whips around and races straight out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter. I ended up going through 3 or 4 different plots before settling on this one.
> 
> I hope you guys ended up enjoying it!


	10. Act 4, Part 2 - Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: More description of an anxiety attack.

Keith’s heart hammers in his chest painfully as he rushes down the hall in the general direction that is _away from everyone else._

The memory of the team staring at him in disbelief is burned into his mind, and -to his horror- Keith imagines their expressions twisting and distorting into disgust and scorn right before his eyes.

Keith chest aches.

No one was ever supposed to know about his anxiety attacks.

What will his friends think of him now that they know? That he’s weak? Unstable? _Untrustable_? Will they brand him a liar for hiding such an important thing from them, only to benefit himself? Will they think he’s unfit to be their leader because of it?

The best pilot of his generation, and Keith can’t even handle a bit of stress. How sad, they’ll say. How _pathetic._

They’ll want to get rid of him, just like-

The ravenette sucks in a sharp breath and clutches his shaky hands to his chest.

He has to get away from here.

But before Keith can get more than a couple dozen feet away, the ravenette hears the tell-tale sound of a door sliding open and Lance is _far too_ _predictably_  barreling out after him in a frenzy of swinging limb.

“Hey! Hey, wait!” Lance calls after the shorter boy frantically, and Keith hears the other boy’s rapid footsteps gaining on him. “Keith, please, _wait_!”

Keith ignores it the desperate pleas, instead willing the brunet to just disappear and leave him alone. He continues down the hall, not even sparing the taller boy a glance back. Keith can’t deal with anyone right now. Not even Lance.

Especially not Lance.

The ravenette’s entire body freezes as a warm hand lands on his shoulder suddenly, gripping him tightly and halting his movements. Keith feels his pulse jump.

“Keith, wait a second-” Lance starts, but Keith is already whirling around on the other boy and shoving the brunet’s hand off his shoulder roughly.

Keith musters all the strength he has left to glare vehemently at the taller boy. Hot, misplaced anger replaces the panic coursing through his veins for a brief moment as his frustration flares.

Can’t Lance see the ravenette wants him to go away? He doesn’t want the other boy to see him break down.

This anger exactly what he needs. He needs to push Lance away before he can get too close. Force him to leave before he can choose to do it himself.

He should have done this from the start.

Keith’s fingers dig into his leather-clad palms as he wills himself to stay angry. To keep the anxiety away long enough to make Lance to leave.

“Leave me _the fuck alone_ , Lance!” The ravenette snarls out, teeth bared and fist clenched tightly to to sides.

Lance reels back at the unexpected venom in the ravenette’s voice, shocked. His expression flashes from a look of open concern, to one of hurt, and Keith immediately regrets the harsh words.

At Lance’s distraught face, the ravenette feels his throat go dry and his next words die before he can bite them out. Keith’s aggressive stance falls into something more vulnerable.

He can’t do it. He can’t push him away.

“Lance, I-” He immediately tries to apologize, but the anxiety is back full force and he chokes on the words. The ravenette doubles over, blood pounding in his ears, and wills his pulse to calm. His hand latches onto the fabric over his heart and he squeezes.

This is all just too much.

Not now, not here, not now, not here, Keith chants to himself, hoping the words will calm him.

They don’t.

Finally, Lance holds up his hands in surrender, and the movement draws Keith’s attention back to the other boy. When Lance speaks again, his voice is soft and slow.  “Keith, _cariño_ , calm down. Everything's okay.” The taller boy soothes.

Keith tries, he really tries, but his chest is aching and his hands are still shaking. He takes in a lungful of air. “I can’t-” He tries to say, but his voice cracks and catches in his throat. He feels tears start to pick at the edge of his eyes.

He can’t calm down. Not now. He’s too distressed to stop the rapid beating of his heart on his own.

The ravenette watches, eyes wide, as Lance creeps into his space slowly, hands still raised in a peaceful gesture.

“ _Keith.”_ Lance whispers, voice full of emotion, and reaches out a hand. It hovers in the air between them for a moment. “I’m gonna touch you now, is that ok?”

Keith takes a deep breath, hesitates, and then nods his head slowly.

Lance gives a small, strained smile at the response and wraps his fingers around Keith’s wrist lightly- _carefully_. Keith feels the warmth of the other boy’s skin seep down into his bones.

The brunet tugs gently, and Keith lets himself be pulled over to the side of the hallway. Once there, Lance slides down the wall slowly, tugging the ravenette down to the floor as well.

Keith collapses beside him and immediately latches onto the other boy. He shoves his face into the brunet’s shoulder and winds his arms around Lance’s waist. Lance lets out a noise of surprise, but the taller boy’s arms wrap around him in turn.

Keith chokes out a shaky sob and Lance pulls the shorter boy closer to his chest protectively.

“Shh. It’s okay.” The brunet reassures, and begins carding his fingers through Keith's hair. The ravenette immediately leans into the touch. “It’s gonna be alright, _cariño._ I promise. _"_

Keith inhales deeply, willing himself to listen to the soothing murmur of Lance’s voice and calm down. They sit there in each others’ arms for several moments. And for that time, all Keith knows is the gentle whispers of Lance and the rise and fall of both their chests. Slowly, Keith’s erratic breathing and racing pulse begin to calm, and his eyes dry. 

Once his breathing evens out, Keith slumps all his weight onto the other boy, body and mind exhausted. He press his face further into Lance’s shoulder and groans into the fabric there.

He just cried into Lance’s arms.

“This is so embarrassing.” Keith confesses his thoughts to the brunet.

At that, Lance chuckles, and Keith feels it reverberate through his own chest where they are pressed together so tightly. The sensation makes the butterflies in the ravenette’s stomach act up.

The fingers smoothing down his hair don’t stop, and if anything, the brunet holds him tighter.

“No,” Lance corrects, “Embarrassing is tripping going up the stairs of your middle school graduation and taking a whole row of your classmates down with you. This is just a bad day.”

Keith cranes his neck to look up at Lance’s face, ready to quip out some kind of sarcastic remark, but when he does, his nose knocks straight into the brunet’s.

Both boy’s heads reel back, startled.

It’s at this point that the Keith realizes just how close they are, and how he is almost entirely sitting in Lance’s lap at this point. Color immediately floods the ravenette’s face as he stares in muted shock at the brunet.

Lance blinks back at the shorter boy owlishly, as if not quite done processing what just happened. Keith can almost imagine the cogs slowly working in the other boy's head.

_Shit._

Pulse rising for a whole new, non-anxiety-related reason, Keith promptly shoves himself away from Lance. The taller boy lets out a yelp of surprise, and the ravenette hears the other boy smack loudly into the wall.

Keith flinches at the sound as he scrambles up to his feet, hastily backing up a few paces. His eyes bore a hole into the floor as he pointedly ignores whatever Lance’s expression must be right now. The ravenette grips the hem of his shirt in his clenched fists, fiddling with the soft fabric there, feeling embarrassed to hell and back.

“Sorry,” Keith chokes out when Lance groans in pain.

“Ow, my head." The brunet complains. "Did you really have to shove me?” And then Keith hears the tell-tale rustle of fabric as Lance push himself to his feet.

There’s an awkward silence where Keith does not answer.

Lance coughs self-consciously, and after another small silence, he asks, “ _Sooo_ , uh, you okay now?”

Keith hands pause at the question, and he glances up tentatively.

Lance is looking pointedly away, and his cheeks match the same color red Keith can feel heating his own face. The brunet rubs gently at the back of his head, soothing the bump he’s sure to have.

Oops. Keith hadn’t meant to hurt the other boy. Regardless, the ravenette sighs in relief, hands finally releasing his shirt. It seems Lance isn’t going to bring up the awkward moment.

“Yeah I’m good.” Keith answers.

Lance glances over to him from the corner of his eye. “Are you gonna tell me what that was all about?”

“ _No._ ” Keith answers bluntly- instinctively. He nearly flinches at the harshness in his tone.

But Lance just blinks at him, unphased and confused. His embarrassment is seemingly forgotten in light of Keith’s refusal. “What?” He asks incredulously. “After all that?” When Keith doesn’t elaborate, the brunet sighs and tries again, “You’re serious? Come on, Keith, I can’t help if I don’t know.”

Keith hesitates.  What exactly did happen? The ravenette takes a moment to reflect.

Keith has been worrying about so many things these past few weeks: being a better Black Paladin, the ambushes, extra training, Shiro’s strange behavior, Kolivan’s offer to join the Blades.

Everything has just been piling up and up into an unsteady mountain of stress. Or it had been, until gravity finally caught up to the rapid ascension and toppled them all over onto Keith’s unsuspecting head in the common room. The metaphorical dams of Keith’s anxiety had broke, and the ravenette had almost forgotten what it meant to be able to swim.

Keith can trust the brunet with that much, but then again, some things are better left unsaid. Like the part where the ravenette may just be considering Kolivan’s offer.

So the half-truth it is then.

“Fine.” Keith finally answers, crossing his arms over his chest. “I have these anxiety attacks sometimes. It not a common thing, but it happens.” The ravenette sighs. “I just- I got thinking about how we’ve been ambushed so much lately, and what might happen if the Galra managed to get on the ship. It just escalated from there, I guess.” Keith explains.

Lance looks at him in confusion and concern. “And that made you have an anxiety attack?” The other boy shuffles closer, placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder comfortingly. “You know the team can take care of themselves right? We’ve had intruders before. We can handle it.”

Keith frown deepens, but he doesn’t mention that no, it’s not just that that’s been worrying him.

Instead he asks, “Yeah well what about the time when we can’t handle it, Lance? What then?”

When Lance doesn’t answer, Keith takes in a deep breath and his shoulders slump. “What if we can’t beat them this time? Their plan is working frighteningly well. You of all people have to be able to see that, right?” He asks, voice strained and desperate.

Lances nods reluctantly.

Keith continues. “The castle is breaking down. Allura can’t wormhole away many more times. And like her, we’re all exhausted from extra training drills. How are we supposed to keep fighting like this?”

Lance squeezes his shoulder comfortingly, and finally speaks. “We’ll figure it out, Keith. I promise.”

Keith chuckles darkly. “Who will? I’m supposed to be leading everyone, but I sure as hell won’t. I can’t even stick to a plan, let alone make one.”

Keith is too impulsive to lead. The team should’ve realized this by now. Keith will never be able to replace Shiro. He’ll never-

Lance shakes him, as if sensing Keith’s thoughts. The ravenette’s attention snaps to the taller boy.

Lance points a thumb to himself and smiles. “That’s what you have me for, okay?” Lance grabs Keith’s other shoulder and turns the shorter boy to face him.

Keith looks into earnest blue eyes, surprised by the sudden change in atmosphere.

Lance’s smile and voice soften as he looks over Keith’s face. “You trust me to watch your back, right?”

Keith doesn’t hesitate. “Of course.”

Lance nods approvingly. “Good. So now trust me to have this. I’ll figure it out.” The brunet promises. “I’m your idea guy. Your strategy dude. Your _plan man_.” Lance winks playfully. “Just wait and see.”

And with that, Keith feels the corners of his lip twitch up.

“Ahah! A smile!”

Keith immediately forces his mouth into a discontented frown.

“Nope. Too late. I’ve already seen it. You’re _smiling_ ,” Lance sings, and pinches at the ravenette’s cheek.

Keith laughs, batting the offending hand away. “Stop that! Fine, I’m smiling!” Keith concedes, grinning brightly at the other boy. “Happy?”

“Overjoyed!” Lance says honestly, and Keith feels his cheeks heat once more.

A brief silence follows were the two boys just look at each other, before Lance bends his head down, scratching the back of his neck self-consciously.

“I know you said you’re against it,” Lance begins carefully, “But I really think the game night is a good idea.”

Keith’s expression sours once more.

Lance glances up, and when his eyes land on Keith’s face, he hold up two hands in a peaceful gesture.

 _“_ Just _listen_. It might seem like a waste of time to you, but there’s a logical reason for it.” Lance starts to ramble, hands flying around as he explains.

“It’s suppose to be a moral booster. Something to lessen everyone’s stress so that we can focus better and to keep us motivated, right? Just like how I’m trying to help you with the game console, Allura is trying to help the team with this. It’s actually pretty important to do, and I think-,” Lance’s hands freeze in the air as he hesitates.

“I think it would be good for you to join everyone.” He finally states, hands falling limply to his side. Lance looks nervously at Keith, obviously waiting for his poor reaction.

Keith sighs once more. “Lance, you know I’m not good with things like this. And after what just happened, I don’t know if I can even face the team tonight.” Keith confides, because he honestly doesn’t know if he can _ever_ face them again. Not with how scared he is of their reactions. “No one was supposed to know that I-.”

Lance cuts him off. “ _Keith_ ,” He stresses. ”Everyone will understand, trust me. The team cares about you, and they won’t think of you any differently for this.”

Keith doesn’t know if he believes that.

“They aren’t going to want a leader who can’t handle his own anxiety,” Keith argues. “They’ll never listen to me again!”

“Not true. Shiro had anxiety attacks when he was the leader.” Lance points out.

Keith groans in frustration. “That’s different!”

It’s different because Shiro is _Shiro_ , whereas Keith is just... Keith.

“It’s not different.” Lance states firmly. When Keith still looks unconvinced, Lance sighs. “Look, I’ll be there the whole night, right beside you. If you feel anxious at all we’ll both leave. I’ll take you back to your room, or mine, or where ever you want. I promise.”

Keith eyes Lance warily. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course, _cariño._ There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you."

Both boys freeze at that, and Lance’s face burst into flames as he seems to realize what he’s just said.

“Uh, erm, for the team! The team, yeah. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for anyone on the team. Which includes you, of course. So, uh, yeah.” Lance finishes lamely.

Keith feels a smile returning to his face. Lance can be really cute sometimes.

The ravenette watches as Lance takes a deep breath, shaking off his embarrassment, and then holds out a tentative pinky.

“Promise you’ll at least try?” The other boy asks, staring at him with big, round, pleading eyes. He gives a soft smile, and wiggles his finger in Keith direction. “Pretty please?”

Keith about to say ‘no way’, but at Lance’s hopeful expression the words die out, and the ravenette realizes he has a very large problem or two.

For one, he is far more than just fond of the taller boy. And two, that makes him unable to say no to the brunet.

Composing himself, Keith looks Lance in the eye with mock annoyance and sighs in defeat, linking his pinky with the brunet’s lightly.

Lance is going to be the death of him.

Keith’s heart skips a beat as Lance’s face lights up once more, and the taller boy locks his pinky into place tightly as if Keith would back out if he got the chance to get away.

He wouldn’t.

Lance’s face imitates a stoic expression and he moves their hands up and down decisively, as if shaking on an important business deal. Which is ridiculous- and kind of endearing- because they’re making a pinky promise, not a life altering deal.

Lance grins brightly at him, and Keith momentary forgets his uncertainty. The butterflies in his stomach start moving once again.

“Fine.” Keith concedes, warmth and fondness filing his chest up. Lance opens his mouth to speak excitedly, only for Keith to shush him by holding up a finger. “But,” He emphasizes with a tap of said finger to the tip of the other boy’s nose. Lance’s eyes cross as they follow the movement, and Keith almost laughs.

“You owe me one.” Keith finishes.

Lance smiles, so warm and so softly at Keith, that the shorter boy’s knees turn to jelly and his heart does a painful flip inside his chest. “Of course.”

In that moment, Keith wants more than anything to tell Lance just how amazing he is. He wants to tell the other boy just how much Keith adores him. Just how much the brunet means to him.

The ravenette shakes the thought right out of his head, face burning.

“Let’s get back to the others.” Keith says quickly, already turning to move in that direction.

“You sure?” Lance asks.

Keith smiles at the concern in the other boy’s voice. “Yeah.” He answers truthfully. Then the ravenette starts heading back down the hall towards the common room. He cranes his neck to look back at Lance. “Now come on and walk back with me.”

Lance grins. “You got it.” The brunet hurries forwards, falling into step beside him.

Lance is so close to Keith as they walk, that the ravenette can feel the other’s boy’s knuckles brush against his own. Keith’s fingers twitch as he has the sudden urge to grab the taller boy’s hand in his own.

But Keith does not.

They arrive at the common room moments later.

Keith takes a deep breath, steeling himself in front of the door. He glances to Lance, who smiles at him encouragingly, and that gives all the strength he needs.

The door slides open in warm greeting, and Keith steps inside.

-_-_-_-_-

Keith finds himself immediately wrapped up in two large arms and lifted up, feet dangling a couple of inches off the ground. The ravenette feels akin to a child’s rag doll as he’s swung around and squeezed by Hunk.

And then, just as suddenly, the larger boy drops him to the ground and places two solid hands on Keith shoulders. Hunk’s face is serious, but warm, as he leans forward and stares into the shorter boy’s eyes.

Keith simply blinks at the other boy, somewhat dazed.

“I’m glad you’re ok.” Hunk says, voice honest. “Just know that I’m always here for you, Keith. You can come to me anytime you feel overwhelmed and we can just talk, or hug, or whatever you need.”

Keith doesn’t mention the fact he already feels overwhelmed, and instead nods in understanding.

Hunk perks up. “Good! Good.” Hunk looks over Keith’s shoulder at Lance. “And good job buddy. For a minute there I was worried you guys wouldn’t be coming back.”

Keith jolts as Pidge suddenly speaks up from beside him, adjusting their glasses. “If they didn’t, it would be for a completely different reason than you’re implying.” The tiny paladin shoots a sly look towards Keith, and he stares dumbly in return.

Lance, however, suddenly squeezes past the ravenette and into the room, smacking Pidge on the back of the head. “Hush, you gremlin.” The taller brunet shoots them a warning look, face tinted pink.

Now Keith is even more confused by the exchange.

Pidge glares back and frowns, rubbing the back of their head soothingly. “We were all thinking it!” They protest, then turn to Keith once more, muttering curses. When their eyes lock with the ravenette’s, Pidge looks much more serious.

Under their level gaze, Keith feels like he’s being appraised. The ravenette shifts on his feet nervously, and fights the urge to fiddle with the hem of his shirt.

“Keith,” Pidge starts kindly, and Keith is thankful for the lack of their usual sharp tone, “It’s like Hunk said, I’m here to listen if you need anything.” The small paladin gestures to Lance and Hunk with a thumb. When they speak again, their voice is exasperated. “Trust me _,_ I have enough experience _for a lifetime_ from listening to these two dumbasses mope.”

Then they grin, eye sparkling mischievously, and briefly glance in Lance’s direction. “And to be honest, I could probably fix a couple of your problems for you.”

Keith isn’t sure if he likes the devious expression on the smaller paladin’s face, but he nods in affirmation anyway.

They only grin wider.

Keith tears his eyes away from the small wolfish paladin when a heavy hand lands on his shoulder. His eyes land on Shiro, who is now standing beside him, and the Alteans who follow hesitantly behind.

The salt-and-pepper man frowns. “Keith, I just want you to know- I understand we haven’t been getting along lately, but I’m still your brother. You can come to me whenever you’re feeling stressed, and we’ll talk you through it, okay?”

Shiro’s face is earnest as he speaks, and Keith feels suddenly guilty. He averts his eyes from the older man’s face.

Maybe he should take Shiro up on his offer soon. The two of them haven’t talked in a long time after all- not since the early days of Shiro’s second return. Keith honestly misses him.

“Okay,” Is what Keith finally settles on. “I’ll keep it in mind, Shiro.”

The older man smiles warmly. “Good.”

Allura is the next to speak.

Keith turns to her at the sound of his name, and notices the princess looks.. genuinely concerned for him. Which is odd, Keith thinks, considering their rocky dynamic ever since he was announced part Galra. Allura had finally accepted him, yes, but the two still tended to avoid each other for the most part unless the mission called for their cooperation.

“Keith,” She pauses hesitantly, and if mulling over her next words carefully. The Altean’s usual confidence is replaced by an awkwardness that matches how Keith feels. “Shiro has explained to us what happened.” She finally admits.

Ah, right. He would do that. Keith shoots a glare in his brother's direction. The salt-and-pepper man shrugs, unphased.

Allura continues. “If you would like, Coran could try and have the castle synthesis a calming agent that would work with your specific brain chemistry. It may help in future situations similar to this.”

“Of course I would need to run a few tests,” Coran adds, “but it should be doable.” The ginger man give a soft smile. “Well figure it out together, right number 4?”

Keith is honestly stunned.

An anxiety medication? They could- and _would-_ do that for him?

Lance suddenly wraps an arm around Keith’s shoulder, leaning his weight on the shorter boy. Keith leans into him as well.

“Right, and how long would that take, Coran?” The brunet asks cheerily.

The ginger man twirls his mustache in thought. “Hmm. Add the one, then the two for testing...” He mumbles to himself. Finally, the older man’s face lights up, and he holds up a finger. “About five or six quintants, maybe a full movement.”

Lance grins down at the ravenette. He looks just as excited as Keith feels. “Hear that, Keith, we can have you fixed up in less than a week.”

Keith stares back up at the other boy in awe.

Suddenly, Hunk announces from the back, “This calls for a group hug!”

And then Keith feels two large arms loop around him as Hunk hugs him for the second time today. Lance laughs and winds both arms around Keith as well. Pidge mutters a few protests under their breath, but comes for to wrap their tiny arms the best they can around the three of them. Shiro comes in last, chuckling under his breath at the display.

To Keith’s surprise, the Alteans join them as well after a moment. And then Keith is being hugged by more people at once than then number of people he has ever been hugged by in his life.

As the hug disperses, Keith can feel emotion welling up in both his throat and the corners of his eyes. He blinks the wetness away.

“I-” Keith begins, but his voice cracks and he stops. Taking a breath, the ravenette starts again, “I can’t thank you all enough.”

The sentence comes out wobbly, and even Keith himself can hear the rawness in his voice.

Lance’s arm is immediately winds back around his shoulder, pulling him close, and Keith relaxes into the brunet’s side.

“No need to thank us, Keith.” Lance murmurs quietly. The other boy smiles down at him. “That’s what friends are for.” And then, with a grand gesture with his free hand to the rest of the room, Lance booms out, “And we’re all your friends, right?”

There’s a chorus of agreement around the room.

Keith looks up to the taller boy’s face, and Lance grins down at him smugly. “Told you.” The brunet whispers.

Keith smiles back, and then glances around the room.

Friends, huh?

Keith sees the fondness on Shiro’s face. He sees Pidge, grinning at him mischievously and Hunk’s genuine expression. He feels Lance’s arm around his shoulder. Even the Altean’s eyes are on him, soft in understanding and lingering concern.

Keith thinks to himself, these people are _not_ just his friends- they’re his _family_.

And Keith wouldn’t ask for anyone else.

-_-_-_-_-

Keith ends up not only staying the entire game night, but also actually enjoying himself. And true to his word, Lance stays beside him the entire night.

Literally.

The other boy is glued to his side the entire time. He sits where Keith sits, plays the games Keith plays, and overall just follows him everywhere.

And Keith can’t find it in himself to mind the attention.

It’s not pointed out until Keith wins seven go fish matches in a row with Lance’s not so fair help. At that point, nearly everyone protests the only duo team of the night.

Lance shushes them, saying it’s perfectly fair, since Keith has never played before.

Pidge immediately argues that the Alteans have never played before either.

There’s a moment of debate, and then they all play in duos after that- Keith with Lance, Pidge with Allura, and Hunk with Coran. Which leaves Shiro, who proudly announces he can beat them all himself.

Much to Keith amusement, he does not.

At the end of the night, Lance walks the tired ravenette back to his room. Once he says goodnight to the taller boy and goes inside, Keith collapses onto his bed and quickly falls into a peaceful sleep.

He dreams of blue eyes and a soft, fond smile.


End file.
